XIII Replacement
by Footloose Phoenix
Summary: Children are strange creatures. They unnecessarily call you "Mr.", idolize musicians, ignore their proper name and all too easily forgive those who have wronged them. But what can you do? She's a seven-year-old Nobody. -DISCONTINUED-
1. Stop and Stare

**XIII Replacement

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1. Stop and Stare  
**

Axel poked his head out of the common room. A few doors up, Demyx and Luxord were doing the same from the castle's kitchen. Right across from them was Zexion, also spying into the hall. Some Dusks and an Assassin were crowded around him, watching, waiting for something. Two other Organization members rounded the corner but it was not them they were watching for. Between the two men, who happened to be Xemnas and Vexen, was a little girl no older than seven. She looked fragile, as if poking her the wrong way would shatter her very nonexistent soul. Light brown, ragged hair hung just past the girl's shoulders and she'd occasionally brush it out of her frightened green eyes. When she saw everyone staring, she gasped and clung to Vexen's coat. Xemnas pulled her off by the arm and forced her along.

As the girl passed Axel, she stared up at him questioningly before turning her head again. He noticed a small scar on her upper left cheekbone in the shape of an "X".

"Axel! Go to the supply closet on the top floor and get the smallest black Organization outfit you can find," Xemnas ordered. "Then bring it back to the common room and wait for the girl and Demyx." The Superior paid no attention to Axel's groans and kept ushering the young girl down the lengthy hallway of the first floor. Number VIII dragged himself to the elevator and pressed the "up" button. Before stepping inside, Axel cast another look in the girl's direction. She was staring right back at him, emerald eyes wide and curious.


	2. Risk

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter as I hope you will enjoy the rest of this story. The next few chapters are currently in the process of being revised, corrected and improved, like this one and the first, so for now...hang tight.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do own "the girl."

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**2. Risk**

The common room of the Castle That Never Was existed mainly for two reasons, in theory. One: To have a simple system for the Organization members' private chambers, and two because whoever the poor sap with the job of designing the castle was had felt that the people living there would like chatting with each other every morning. Well, it wasn't a terrible idea. Axel spent some time there in the evening and it seemed as though Lexaeus never left the large dirty armchair by the door. But sometimes Larxene, previously the only female in the Organization, would come back from a particularly stressful mission and, well, everyone else had learned to promptly but not hurriedly exit to their rooms.

Axel was tired of waiting. He'd done what Xemnas had demanded, for lying on the chair next to him, almost as flat on it as he was, a much smaller version of the clothing worn in the Organization rested. The ticking of that cursed clock hanging above him informed Axel that he'd been sitting there for an hour and a half. Finally, after five more minutes of staring at the captivating wall, the door leading into the first floor hallway swung opened. Number VIII sprang up from the couch a little too enthusiastically and nearly knocked over the potted plant sitting by his feet.

"Did you miss me, Axel?" With a sigh, he flopped back onto the couch.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Well, I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," Marluxia said. He left a trail of flower petals on the newly washed carpet as he strolled to the second door opening onto the half-circle hallway their rooms were docked on. Axel put his feet up, deciding he was in for a long night. Just as his eyes started to close a small sound jolted him out of half-sleep.

"Mr. Axel?"

The soft, gentle voice belonged to none other than the little girl Axel had been waiting for. Standing behind her was Demyx, sitar held around the neck in one gloved hand. He bent down to whisper something in her ear and she giggled.

"You have to get up now, Mr. Axel," she said. He lifted his head off the couch slightly.

"Where the hell were you?" Number VIII shot at Demyx, who hurriedly tried to cover the child's ears.

"Teaching," he answered simply, playing a chord on the instrument.

"What, you've corrupted the kid already?" Axel pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Demyx says I'm his favourite!" the little girl exclaimed joyfully. She showed all her teeth in a wide smile briefly before her eyes fell back to the floor and she regained a silent composure.

"Well, I'm going to hit the hay. Don't keep her up too late," Demyx said, beginning to walk toward the door. Axel jumped to his feet.

"But-hey!" The girl looked up at him curiously. His outstretched arms dropped uselessly when Number IX disappeared into the night.

"Um…Superior Xemnas told me to give you this." She held up a tightly folded note to Number VIII. He took it and scanned the piece of paper. The girl watched in amusement while Axel read the slit of paper, expressions changing as he scanned it, going from raising his eyebrows to grinding his teeth and finally settling on an "I am kind of pissed off" look. He looked down at her as the girl began playing with a lock of her light brown hair.

"Follow me," he grumbled, crumpling the paper.

Her eyes scanned every inch of Roxas's old room. Bare white walls enclosed the small square space, the only furniture being a bed with plain black sheets in one corner. The floor was also carpeted in white, a few black streaks here and there, as if the previous occupant had been dragging a Heartless-dirtied weapon through it. Clutching the black robe uncertainly, she entered it with soft, careful steps while Axel continued to lean in the doorway with his arms crossed. He'd been through an agonizing long day and felt his eye lids fighting to stay open. Nobodies had to sleep at least once in a while, after all.

"Um…"

"What?" he snapped without meaning to. The girl shrank back like a frightened animal.

"N-Nothing…"

"…Who are you?" That was always a fairly safe question, one that could be answered in a wide variety of ways and to attempt not having the two hate each other for the rest of their non-existences. Frankly, Axel was tired of all his simulate hate, dislike and annoyance with everyone else living in the castle. Roxas was indeed the only one he liked, though he did enjoy screwing with Number XII on occasion.

"…Risk…" She hesitated. "That was my Other me's name. I don't like mine," Risk added quietly, a sense of embarrassment and guilt in her voice. Number VIII silently applauded it. Pulling off two emotions at once wasn't easy, especially for newcomers. But never one to pry, Axel nodded in understanding. No one had clung to their old name before, but maybe it was a kid thing. Learning to write your name and having the pride of being able to do so…not that Axel cared or remembered that tiny detail.

"A woman named Larxene is going to wake you up tomorrow. She's a little…evil but if you keep your head down and never look her in the eye, you'll be fine." They stared at each other in awkward silence. Risk sat down on Roxas's old bed the same time Axel grabbed the doorknob.

"Goodnight, Mr. Axel."

"Yeah…night, kid."

**OOO**

An impatient banging roused young Number XIII from her peaceful, dreamless slumber. The door shook as the person with an obvious anger management problem tried again. Risk propelled herself out of bed, fearing for her young life at the woman beyond, and began rushing around the room, trying to find where she put her boots last evening.

"COME ON! HURRY UP, YOU LITTLE B-" The door opened and Risk stumbled out, hair scrambled from equal parts sleep and distress. "-rat," Larxene finished.

"I'm so sorry!" Keeping Axel's advice in mind, Risk kept her eyes on the Savage Nymph's polished black boots.

"It's time you learned how things work around here, girl. I don't exist to wait on pathetic little Nobodies who can't even fight," Larxene said coldly. Three dangerous-looking kunai appeared in her right hand and she pointed them at Risk's nose.

"Aaaaaand I see it's a little tense this morning. Hey, Larxene," Demyx said, coming up behind her in an awkward power walk and drawing attention to himself. "Did you enjoy the mouse I left in front of your door?" Before Risk could take in what Number IX had said he was already running out the door to the common room, screaming loud enough for Xemnas to hear from his office on the thirteenth floor. Larxene paused to roar before giving chase. She stared after them in amazement, eyes wide.

"Wow…he's so brave…"

While still pondering her new hero's awesomeness, the door emblazoned with the number eleven opened and a man with very masculine pink hair stepped into the hallway, an eyebrow raised slightly.

"You're the girl?" he asked, surprising Risk a bit. It wasn't a very specific question, she observed, but nodded anyway. "Marluxia. On the Superior's orders, I am to take you to the meeting room. Clearly Larxene isn't up for it…"

"Okay," she responded obediently. Risk followed this Marluxia fellow into the common room where a few members of the Organization had already gathered, waiting to go with someone else or just killing time until a good moment for warping into the morning meeting-not early enough to look foolish and not too late so that the Superior didn't give them an earful. Among them were Axel, Demyx and Larxene, seeming to have a calm discussion amongst themselves. Axel didn't notice when Risk and Marluxia entered. He was preoccupied with trying to get Number XII to put away the three sharp weapons of hers still being pointed around and keeping the Melodious Nocturne from running off and taking cover beneath the coffee table. Another man was also watching the spectacle, one Risk hadn't met before. He looked rather gloomy and had one eye covered by a mess of hair.

"Hey, we're civilized Nobodies. We don't need weapons to resolve a problem. Demyx!" Axel shouted. Number IX had made good use of Axel's unintentional distraction to Larxene. Twelve was now sprawled on the floor, unconscious from Demyx's mighty blow to the back of the head with his trusty sitar.

"Run! Run away!" The instrument was dismissed by his hand and Number IX ran passed Risk and Marluxia in a mad dash to escape. After the door slammed shut the gloomy fellow returned to his book and Axel calmly walked away, whistling a pleasant tune as he did so. Young Number XIII looked up at Marluxia. He cleared his throat.

"We'll see you at the meeting, Zexion. Come, Number XIII."

Risk gazed up in wonder at the thrones high above their heads. There were thirteen, one for each member of the Organization, of course. A few Nobodies were already there, two of which were Xemnas and Vexen, but the others were unfamiliar. The Superior looked down from his great height and gave a brief nod in Risk's direction.

"Um…Marluxia? How do we get up there?" she asked shyly. Number XI snorted, a thing no one should have to endure.

"Like this." The Graceful Assassin extended his right arm and flexed the palm. A black portal materialized before him and he stepped through it in a sort of majestic-for-him way. The portal disappeared and Risk looked around, confused, before turning her eyes upwards.

"Oh my!" Marluxia gave her a half-hearted wave from above. She could feel the stares of everyone in the room fall on the new Number XIII, daring her to try and fail. Demyx folded back his hood a moment so he could give her a wink of encouragement, then lifted it up again, glancing around in paranoia. It looked simple enough, Risk thought, and summoning the black portal came naturally. But when she stepped into it her breath was taken away and the girl panicked. For a moment it felt as if time itself slowed and then, somehow, Risk managed to focus. Before she knew what had happened, she was seated in the throne designated for Number XIII. While Risk regained herself and even felt a little proud for succeeding in her first taste of nonexistent power, the other Nobodies looked at each other in confusion.

"I feel…a bit off," a blue-haired man with an "X" shaped scar across the bridge of his nose admitted. Vexen eyed Risk thoughtfully until he was distracted by the sudden appearance of a hairy man in the chair next to him.

"What?" Number III barked.

About fifteen minutes later when the rest of the Organization had assembled and Larxene was fetched by one of Xaldin's Dragoons from the floor in the common room, the meeting began.

"Now, I'd like to start off this morning's gathering with two very important announcements," Xemnas declared in his serious, drawling meeting voice. He paused, either for effect or so the Dusk below them would be prepared to punch in what he was about to say for the record on an old-fashioned typewriter. "There is a new member joining our ranks, as some of you already know. Please give our new Number XIII your warmest and most sincere welcome. Now." Some clapping and a small "yay" filled the room briefly. Satisfied, he continued. "As for my other announcement, I'm happy to say one of Number II's Snipers got the stain out of my carpet."

The Superior went on about who was doing what wrong and what Saix was doing right for the next chunk of the meeting, sending Risk into her daydreams and Axel to sleep. Once in a while he'd ask a direct question to one of the other members to which they'd give the shortest possible answer.

"No, Superior," Demyx mumbled lifelessly. His hood still concealed his face, but it was obvious who he was, given the identities of everyone else was clear.

"Very well, then. That leaves one more minor detail to take care of. Number XIII, as soon as this meeting finishes, you are to go with Vexen and Axel to the training grounds," Xemnas stated.

"Yes, Superior," Risk and Vexen replied obediently. Everyone looked at Number VIII. His hood fell off and a few members tried to hide their grins when the room filled with his snores.

"Number VIII!" the Superior yelled in annoyance. "AXEL!"

"Your mother was an ugly flaming cow," he muttered in his sleep. Risk covered her face with her hands to hide the huge smile that had spread across it. Rolling her eyes, Larxene threw one of her kunai in Axel's direction. It scrapped the top of his head and embedded itself in one of Number VIII's red spikes. He woke up with a jump and gingerly felt his noggin with both hands.

"As I was saying," Xemnas said sharply. "Axel is going with Number IV and Number XIII to the training grounds. Do I make myself clear?" Axel pulled Larxene's weapon free.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled.


	3. Fool Lessons

I don't own Kingdom Hearts or U2 (briefly mentioned), but Risk is mine.

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**3. Fool Lessons**

It was a lovely time of morning at the World That Never Was. The birds were singing, the breeze was pleasant and all was quiet. Except for the birds singing. That was soon fixed by a loud yell from Organization XIII's Number II and the sound of gun fire. The unfortunate blue jay fell from the great height that was six stories up and landed with a thud on the cobblestones next to Demyx. He looked at it in surprise before kicking the thing away with the toe of his boot. Vexen gave him a brief look but Axel and Risk soon caught his attention again.

"Flaming sons of Saturn," Number VIII muttered as he went through the pages Xemnas had provided him. Risk giggled girlishly.

"That sounds funny."

"What is this? A script?!" Axel exclaimed, tastefully ignoring Number XIII for the moment.

"Err, actually, it is," Vexen responded. "It seems the Superior has been…experimenting in that area recently." Demyx yawned, grabbing a chair and sitting backwards in it, something he knew annoyed the Chilly Academic.

"Just read it out loud. It can't be that bad," he suggested to Axel. Number VIII sighed and muttered something vulgar but began reading the first page.

"'Number XIII'," he began mechanically, "'All Nobodies have special powers. Axel paces in front of Number XIII like a teacher.'" Risk held in a laugh. "Dusks have their flexibility, Dragoons have their weapons, and Snipers have their gravity defying ways.' My God, this is stupid," he said to no one in particular.

"It can't get much worse. Keep going," Vexen instructed.

"'You and I and the rest of Organization XIII are, however, special and possess unique abilities. Axel makes hand gestures'. Yeah, I'll give him a hand gesture," Axel added silently, making Risk's eyes well up with tears of mirth as she clamped her mouth shut. "'Today we want to unlock your powers, Number XIII, but first, let us start with the basics.'" Vexen sighed, sensing that many things could go wrong within the next five minutes and probably would. Demyx continued bouncing restlessly in one of the lawn chairs. "'Take this knife, young Number XIII. Aim it at this training bull's eye. Here we will test your accuracy. To make sure it doesn't fall down in the wind, I will stand behind it.' What the HELL?!" Number VIII yelled, making everyone in the training grounds jump. A Dusk slid up to Risk and plopped a thin, sleek knife in her hand. "Hey! Don't give her that, you stupid Nobody!" The Dusk teleported out before Axel had a chance to wring its neck. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the weapon.

"Now, now, Axel. You don't want to disappoint the Superior, do you?" Vexen asked slyly.

"Oh yeah. You have to do what it says. Xemnas has eyes everywhere. He's always watching. In the common room, in your bedroom, kitchen, meeting room, bathroom…" They paused to look at Demyx like he was the craziest person they'd ever met.

"You're not helping," Axel barked.

"Don't worry, Mr. Axel. I won't miss. Whoops!" Risk said, hurrying to pick up the dropped knife.

"I hate it when I die," he muttered as he took his position behind the bull's eye.

Vexen and Demyx stood well behind Number XIII as she faced the target. Trying to hold the knife without spearing her own hand caused Risk to almost drop it several more times before Number IV finally stepped it and moved her fingers to hold it in a less dangerous fashion.

"I never thought I'd need a written will, so I guess I'll just say it out loud. There isn't much to say, I guess, so here goes," Axel sighed, one hand casually resting on the wooden board. "Vexen, you can have my matches, lighters, anything flammable that you want. Demyx, pick out whatever U2 CDs you want, I won't need them where I'm going. Everything else I own…let the others take what they want, I don't care. But if you see Roxas, tell him my confession. I was the one who poisoned his omelette on the first day."

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Number VIII," Vexen said. He turned away and rubbed his gloved hands together in anticipation of the freebies.

"U2! Sweet!"

"O-Okay, I'm ready," Risk said, trembling all over. Everyone in the courtyard held their breath as the seven-year-old lifted the knife and aimed it at her target, not too far but much too close to Axel for his liking. She pulled back, preparing for the throw that would decide Number VIII's fate, live or die another day. But as long as there was no distraction to break Risk's focus and nearly perfect aim, Axel would walk away, unsmiling but unharmed. And as they say, any training exercise the mentor could walk away from was a good one.

…As long as there was no distraction. At that moment the castle door burst open, revealing none other than Marluxia.

"Has anyone seen my Queen CD?" he inquired loudly over the noise of the faint rustling leaves. Surprised, Risk jerked her head to see the pink-haired man. She thought the knife was still secured in her grasp but the girl was sadly mistaken. The weapon was flying through the air and it did not hit her target. Unfortunately, disaster struck Axel that day and that disaster took the form of a just-sharpened, Larxene-approved, approximately three inch in length stainless steel blade. Number VIII's screams were heard clearly from Xemnas's office on the thirteenth floor and who knows how much farther.

**OOO**

Riku looked up from his very life-like carving of a seagull.

"Was that…a scream?" he asked Sora, who sat in the sand by his feet near the paopu tree.

"Sounded like it. Kinda familiar…"

"Huh."

"Huh." The two friends paused. "Hey, want to get some ice cream, Riku?"

"Sure."

**OOO**

It was definitely necessary for the Castle That Never Was to have an infirmary in case of such emergencies. A group of highly-trained Sorcerer Nobodies tended to the patients and they knew how to handle anything and everything. From an ill Superior to Dusks with life-threatening wounds, they had to be on top of it all. Needless to say, the Sorcerers felt that they weren't paid enough. By the time Risk, Demyx and Vexen caught up with Axel the lesser Nobodies had already cleaned and bandaged his wound which happened to be smack in the center of Number VIII's forehead. Risk hung back behind the Melodious Nocturne in shame so Vexen reached Axel's bed first. He held back the smart remarks for later and instead handed him a bright pink smiley-face balloon. Axel took it and looked up at him with an expression of clear "What the hell?" inquiry.

"Xigbar sends his regards," Vexen said flatly.

Awkward feet-shuffling followed as the wounded soldier glared at his visitors.

"Nice, uh…bed."

"Go drown in Larxene's bathtub," Axel shot back at his mullet-ed colleague. He'd been staring at the bloodied bandages on Number VIII's forehead and looked queasy. When Risk decided she couldn't hide from it any longer, she stepped out from behind the shelter of Demyx, who immediately fainted from the sight of the implied gash and managed to avoid crushing her.

"Mr. Axel…" Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry!"

"Hey, it's alright," Axel said unconvincingly. "It's just a…hole." Upon hearing that the girl broke down and began crying in a very messy, wailing way. Because she was standing right over the bed, Axel was soon soaked in the down pour of Nobody tears.

"Mr. Axel's hurt and it's all my fault!" Risk cried between noisy sniffles. He could barely understand her through that wetness but managed to get the gist of it. Now he knew the meaning of the phrase "a face only a mother could love". It was quite uncomfortable for him and Vexen, who was now hanging back with his hands clamped over his ears, a look of disgust replacing his solemn expression, and embarrassing as well.

"Hey, I'll be just fine. I'm not dead again." Number XIII started crying harder, complete with twice the sniffles. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, look at this," he said, attempting to stop the waterfall. Axel held out his hand to the pink balloon Vexen had delivered in the Freeshooter's place and lit a small flame inside it. Risk wiped some of the tears out of her eyes and studied the warm glow, fascination taking away some of the sadness. Relieved, he handed her the balloon.

"Th-Thanks, Mr. Axel," she said. One of the Sorcerers hovered over to them at that moment and started motioning toward the door. "Oh. I guess you need some rest, right Mr. Axel?" Risk tugged on Number IV's coat and meekly pointed to the door. Vexen uncovered his ears and nodded in Axel's direction before leading the way out of the infirmary. A Sorcerer dragged the unconscious Demyx out by the wrists, calmly following Risk and Vexen. Axel let out a sigh when the door slammed shut, leaving him to his thoughts.

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Er, logic is kind of overruled with the flame inside the balloon thing, but oh well. Axel is MAGICAL.


	4. The Things about Risk

Here we are, chapter four. Enjoy.

I don't hold any rights on Kingdom Hearts. Nope. I really don't.

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**4. The Things about Risk**

Breakfast without Axel or Demyx just wasn't the same for young Number XIII. Because of his wound, Axel was required to stay in the infirmary until it was completely healed. The Sorcerers stated in a written report to the Superior that there was a chance of it opening up more if he was subjected to too much movement. As for the Melodious Nocturne, he'd retreated to the confines of his room. It seemed as though Larxene was looking for him. So instead of sitting between the two Nobodies whom she was particularly fond of, Risk was wedged between Zexion and Marluxia. Number VI seemed utterly miserable and she felt a little depressed just being in his presence. As for Marluxia, well, he made Risk quite uncomfortable to begin with and his rose petals kept falling in her cereal.

When she had finished, deciding there were more petals than corn flakes floating around in the bowl, Number XIII pushed back her chair and squeezed between her chair and Zexion's. Unfortunately she had an encounter with Larxene in the process, who just awakened and sported charming little bags under her eyes.

"E-Excuse me," Risk apologized, head down. Number XII said nothing for a very tense moment. She continued her downward gaze because Demyx said that the unholy frown of Larxene had the power to paralyze those who are docile, sensitive and of the penguin order. In other words, the Melodious Nocturne for some reason thought that looking at her frown would leave Risk, himself and very unlucky flightless birds living in the South Pole frozen with fear.

"We have a problem," Larxene said finally in that cold voice she was so good at. "Come with me."

Everyone in the kitchen paused in the middle of their morning meals to watch Number XII and Number XIII leave through the large double doors of the kitchen. Risk's eyes were on the floor as she followed Larxene down the main hall and into the common room. There Vexen was pacing in front of the fireplace, wincing as the door opened but looking at both females with a certain air of dignity.

"Number XIII. Larxene," he greeted, nodding at each in turn. The Savage Nymph made a noise similar to that of a growl, urging Vexen to get to the point. "I made a mistake! Ahem," Number IV squeaked. He then led the way to the hall that bridged the Organizations' rooms and the common room, stopping in front of Risk's door. The three of them stood for a moment in silence, fear growing in Risk, the Chilly Academic feverishly trying to think of an explanation and Number XII impatiently tapping her foot. Finally he reached for the silver doorknob, gripped it tightly for a moment then threw the door open in a swift motion.

Though Number XIII had only slept in the used little cot for two nights, she felt that it was going to be one of the happier times in the Organization. Before Rixks, which is to say Risk's true name, existed and there was only Somebody Risk, she loved curling up at night and falling asleep under the warm safety of her blankets. She remembered it as if it were yesterday and not two and a half weeks ago. Unfortunately, her bed was now a smoking black crater on the floor. Risk slowly turned her head to look up at Vexen.

"You see, sometimes people learn very important lessons. As a scientist, I learn one almost everyday. Today I learned not to hide explosive chemicals under certain objects, in this case a bed." Larxene waited for the question to leave Number XIII's mouth.

"But…where am I going to sleep?" Risk asked.

"That's the problem. Well done, girl," the Savage Nymph said, adding a sarcastic little clap. "Xemnas says you have to stay in MY room until he gets off his ass and actually does something about this." Risk resisted the urge to cry as she looked up into the icy eyes of Larxene.

**OOO**

Number IX took out one of his earphones. Yes, someone was knocking. Cautiously, thinking it might be Larxene, he went to the door and peered through the peephole he'd begged Xemnas to install yesterday. The small figure of Number XIII looked back at him. Demyx opened it and she hurried inside his room.

"Hiya, Risk. I was just-"

"Hiding from Larxene?"

"I was going to say listening to No Doubt…" The girl took a moment to take in the essence of the Melodious Nocturne's room as he reached out to silence the music pounding from the small speakers. Posters of various musical groups adorned almost every inch of the walls. It also seemed that he'd been saving up his munny for a while because a brand new shiny surround sound system stood out like an engaged woman showing off her big, sparkling diamond ring. Funny enough, the bed in Demyx's room looked rather secondary, stuffed into the corner the way it was. A circular carpet was laid down by the door, bean bag chairs of various loud colours situated on top of it.

"Can I hang out with you for a while?" Number XIII asked while admiring a rather large poster of The Gorillaz.

"Sure. Pull up a bean bag chair."

For several minutes they sat in Number IX's cheery corner of the castle without saying anything. Demyx fiddled with a stubborn CD case that just didn't want to close properly and Risk watched the lead singer of Green Day like he was a wild animal about to pounce on her.

"How bad is Larxene?" she asked finally, taking her eyes off the poster. Demyx shrieked at the "L" word, startling her and causing Xaldin, who was passing in front of his door at that moment, to jump about a foot in the air. "Okay…"

"Why?"

"Well, Vexen put chemicals under my bed and Superior Xemnas says I have to sleep in her room for a while. But no big deal, right?" Demyx said nothing. "Um…Demyx?" He continued to say nothing until a knock was heard at the door.

"I'll get that," he announced. Number IX made use of the peephole before unlocking it and facing his visitor.

"Hello, Demyx. I'm searching for something it seems has gone missing from my quarters. Mind if I take a look around?" The unmistakable figure of Marluxia had appeared, flower petals and all. He had even brought along a big fat rose, which he sniffed lovingly as he forced half his body into the doorway before the Melodious Nocturne could close it, which was something that happened more than one would think to Number XI.

"Actually, I'm kind of busy right now. If you come back tomorrow-"

"Thanks," Marluxia said, forcing the door open and hitting Demyx in the nose with it. The Graceful Assassin completely ignored both of them and marched over to the closet near Number IX's surround sound system. Just as he expected there were no clothes but instead shelves upon shelves reaching floor to ceiling, countless CDs packed in there like pickles. Panicking that his precious music discs might be harmed, Demyx made his way over to Marluxia in an awkward-looking jog.

"No! Don't touch them!" he squealed, still holding onto his damaged nose.

Number XI grabbed a random CD from one of the higher shelves and kept it away as the Melodious Nocturne began jumping up and down, swinging his arms at him and trying to get back his album. It was quite the sight and Risk watched them hopelessly as they fought over it before Marluxia had a brilliant idea and shoved the case into the pants of his outfit.

"Now that's just nasty," she commented despite her nature.

"Poor Pink…"

"Now that I have your attention," Marluxia began, sniffing his rose again. "I have an offer to make. Give me back my Queen CD and I'll take your music out of my pants."

"Your Queen CD?" Risk asked curiously. He nodded and Number XIII reached into one of the hidden pockets her Organization outfit featured and offered the case to him.

"Where did you find this?" Marluxia asked suspiciously, looking the collection of the band's greatest hits over.

"On the floor in the common room. Demyx likes music so I thought I'd give it to him as a present. Sorry, I didn't know it belonged to someone."

"Hmm. Must've fallen out of my handbag…" he muttered thoughtfully.

The three Nobodies shared an awkward moment as realization had a chance encounter with sense and crashed into a feeling of foolish misunderstanding. Risk gave them both sweet smiles.

"I think I'll go visit Mr. Axel now. He's probably lonely, all by himself in the infirmary." All of them nodded.

"It's about time I watered my plants…oh, your CD!"

"No! You can keep it," Demyx said quickly as Number XI reached into his pants. Risk decided to leave when he stood there with one hand where it shouldn't be for longer than necessary.

Risk paced down the hallway, boots making eerie echoes due to the length and height of the corridor as she tried to remember where the infirmary was. She wondered why no one had the sense to make a map for a castle so big when she ended up back in the common room for the second time. Tired of wandering around the first floor like a hamster with a terrible sense of direction, Number XIII tugged gently on the coat of a passing Organizer. He looked down at the girl and she was struck terrified by all of the golden earrings hanging from his various piercings. The large bottle of alcohol in his left hand didn't help much, either.

"Yes?"

"Um…can you tell me how to get to the infirmary from here?" Risk asked sweetly. The man, who she remembered Axel describing as a drunken British gambler named Luxord, leaned on one leg and "hmm"-ed like he was weighing the pros and cons of giving someone directions.

"I can take you there IF you prove your luck," he replied. Number XIII raised one eyebrow. "It's simple, really. Roll two dice," Luxord said, presenting the required cubes. "If you get a number over ten, I'll show you to the infirmary. But if you lose, I get all your munny." Being naïve, Risk agreed and rolled the dice. To Luxord's surprise, she rolled an eleven-a five and a six.

"I win! Now can you tell me where to go?" The Gambler of Fate clenched his free hand into a fist. He hated losing a bet.

"You're lucky, but do you have the brains, like me? Tell me, young Number XIII. What does 'avarice' mean?" Risk bit her lip in thought.

"Greed for gain. Kind of like you," she pointed out.

"Fine. But what about 'veritable'?"

"Rightly named. Like calling you a cheat."

"ARGH! THEN WHAT'S 'MAELSTROM' MEAN, YOU LITTLE BRAT?!

"Easy. A great big whirlpool." Luxord looked furious.

"Number X!" Xemnas shouted sternly. Risk turned to see him marching down the hall towards them. She couldn't help but grin as the Superior told Luxord off and sent him to clean the men's toilette. He shot Risk an angry look before sulking away. "Now, is there something I can help you with, Number XIII?"

Xemnas showed her inside the infirmary before excusing himself. Risk walked over to Axel, who turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

"What was the Superior doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"I ran into Luxord and he said some weird things and I told him what 'maelstrom' means then Superior Xemnas came along and told Luxord to clean the men's toilette and I asked him where the infirmary was and he showed me here," she said in one breath.

"I…see."

"But how are you doing, Mr. Axel? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course I am!" Risk frowned in concern. "…Not really, no. But they took the bandages off," he added truthfully. Number XIII made a face at his wound.

"It doesn't look any better," she commented.

"Aren't you here to make me feel a little less crappy?" Risk raised her eyebrows and smiled in an attempt to be sweet and charming. One of the Sorcerers glided over to the other side of Axel's bed and started tending to his wound, as was its job. The Nobody thought it was unnecessary to be gentle as it dabbed his wound with a cotton ball soaked in some sort of disinfectant. "Ow! Cheese and crackers!"

"That stuff smells really bad. Kind of like cow pies." The Sorcerer looked at Risk strangely before giving another good dab to the spot with the cotton ball to which Number VIII responded with an inappropriate four letter word. It floated away shortly after. Axel sighed.

"Mother of Xemnas…"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Axel. I wish I could speed up your recovery somehow…" Risk extended a gloved hand and her mouth fell open in surprise.

"Yeah, well, stuff happens. Now I know not to stand too close when you're holding a pointy object." He folded his arms behind his spiky red head, staring up at the ceiling and didn't notice when Risk started tugging at his coat. "I remember this one time when I was sent on a solo mission to Halloween Town, tracking down a rogue Assassin…"

"Mr. Axel?"

"Well, let's just say it didn't end too great. Sometimes just thinking about it makes my elbows sore," he continued absent-mindedly. "There's also a really ironic story of how I got these things under my eyes."

"Mr. Axel?"

"I didn't speak to Roxas for weeks after. He really shouldn't play with flamethrowers."

"Mr. Axel!" Risk yelled, almost ripping off part of his coat with her feverish yanks.

"What?!" She pointed to Number VIII's forehead.

**OOO**

Axel looked almost as excited as Risk did, though it would make sense, seeing how she was exhausted from training all day. Her arms hung limply by her sides and she kept blinking hard. By Number VIII's watch, it was nearly midnight when they banged on the Superior's door. He answered it, frowning deeply and Risk couldn't help but snicker at how his bathrobe showed off the man's handsome knees.

"Is there a reason why you're here at this time of night?" Xemnas asked irritably. Axel grinned as Number XIII stepped forward. The girl took out a fist-sized white ball from the confines of her cloak and bounced it once just for fun. Then she turned and chucked it down the corridor with surprising strength To the Superior's amazement, it slowly flew through the air to bump against the wall, then caught up to a regular speed. Glancing momentarily at Xemnas for his expression, Risk gestured roughly and the ball shot around through the air again, blurring as it bounced against the walls. Something was obviously astray here. Finally the ball lost its momentum from the throw and bounced on the floor before rolling to a stop.

"I assure you, Superior Xemnas, that was no trick," Number XIII said with a dead serious expression. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Then come in. Show me what else those powers can do."


	5. Perishing Doubt

Here's chapter five. It took awhile because I had to make some major changes but here it is. No, I don't own Kingdom Hearts or Our Lady Peace.

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**5. Perishing Doubt**

It was creepy. Even the ever silent Lexaeus whispered something to Saix when Number XIII walked into the common room. She didn't really care that everyone was staring and quietly spreading rumors about her newly discovered hold on time. Risk was just unhappy that Demyx was again nowhere to be found. It's been two days since she and Axel had paid a late visit to the Superior, after which they'd seen mullet-ed Number IX jogging out of his room.

"Risk." She nearly choked on surprise at the sudden sound of Marluxia's voice behind her.

"G-Good afternoon," Number XIII greeted after turning around and finding herself nose-to-stomach with him. Someone snickered at how far Risk had to tilt her head back to look up at the Graceful Assassin.

"I hear you can do some amazing things, Risk." She took a few steps backward in an attempt to regain her personal space, but Marluxia followed closely.

"Y-Yeah…I guess so…" He was quite frightening at close proximity, smiling down at her like that, rose petals finding their way down and into Risk's eyes and nose. She gave a little sneeze.

"I have a favour to ask. Hear me out?"

"Um…I-I-I…"

"Hey! We've got work to do, thirteen!" The heavenly sound of Axel's calls from across the room saved the little girl from a potentially dangerous situation.

"Coming!" Number XIII called back. She walked over to him quickly and gripped his coat, casting a suspicious glance over at Marluxia before being led to Number VIII's quarters.

"Hmph," he said.

**OOO**

Panting, Risk stumbled out of the newly created portal. Number VIII looked at his wrist where a watch, currently serving as a timer, sat.

"Five minutes, thirteen seconds. Better," he commented hopefully. Sighing, Risk flopped onto the floor, landing softly and without bruises thanks to Axel's soft carpet.

"Using corridors of darkness is hard. I'd rather walk," she said.

"Yeah, but you get used to it after a while. And it's cool," he replied, joining the girl on the comfortable floor and crossing his legs.

"…You were friends with Roxas, right?" Number XIII asked after a brief period of silence. "…I'm sorry. That was rude." Puzzled, Axel gave an unsure answer.

"It's uh…okay?"

"So, what was he like? Would you…tell me about him?" Risk asked meekly.

"How did you-?"

"It's part of your past," she answered simply. A sharp knock drew both of their gazes towards his bedroom door. Number VIII rose from the plush red carpet and opened it. As usual, he was greeted by Saix in the man's usual, friendly manner.

"The Superior sent me to make sure you're following orders…Axel."

"Of course…Saix." The blue-haired man peered around him to see Risk, now standing behind Axel and staring back at Number VII with her large, round eyes.

"Very well," he said finally. "Oh, yes, one more thing. Have you seen Number III around as of late?"

"Xaldin? No," Axel responded truthfully. It seemed as though he, too, had disappeared along with Demyx and the only thing left to tell how the Whirlwind Lancer had resided there were the Nobody wolves prowling the city late at night.

"Well, if you see him make sure he reports to the Superior. Take care," Saix finished unfathomably. He then turned and stalked off down the hall, ready to jump out at anyone doing anything against the rules to give them a lecture.

Just as Axel began to close the door and continue Number XIII's so-called training, the presence of a certain blonde female was announced. He looked down at the kunai's hilt sticking straight up from Axel's pinned coat. Another stabbed the toe of his left boot, thankfully sparing contact with Number VIII's foot. Reaching down to pluck the weapons from their targets resulted in a third kunai speeding past Axel's ear and making Risk duck, for she valued her nonexistence.

"Can we help you, Larxene?" Axel asked as he finally freed his coat from the weapon's point.

"Don't give me that," she snarled in a fine greeting. "You know where you've been sticking your nose." Number XIII shivered in fright as the Savage Nymph poked her mentor in the chest with three kunai. She bared her teeth like an animal, leaning in dangerously close toward Axel.

"Lovely today as always, Larxene," he said coolly, giving a smirk. Number XII pulled back, fuming, and taking the offending kunai with her.

"I'm watching you, eight," she growled. "And keep that thing away from me." Larxene waved a hand at Risk before thrusting it out violently to the side and summoning a portal. Giving a final death stare at Axel, she stepped through it.

Number VIII brushed the three tiny new holes on his outfit lightly. Risk continued to shake slightly, now clinging to the doorway for support as Axel pulled back his sleeve. Checking the black Mickey Mouse watch ticking away on his slim wrist, he let out a content sigh.

"Dinner?"

**OOO**

The evening meal is usually the quietest since most of the Nobodies and tired or feeling uncomfortable due to the day's happenings. The only president sounds were the clinking of utensils on Xaldin's favourite china and the soft mumble of small talk between friends. Risk was by far the most silent, not even daring to ask someone to pass the salt, barely moving in her seat and nodding or shrugging in response to the Luna Diviner's interrogations from across the table. He was certainly talkative this evening. Eager, it seemed to learn how much young Number XIII progressed in the past day.

"And about those portals…" He trailed off, something catching his eye behind Risk. Curious to know what could possibly make Saix pause like that, fork halfway to his open mouth, she turned and peered over her seat.

"Demyx!" Risk called joyfully, waving an arm over her head. The Melodious Nocturne was struggling under a large box of something and was barely able to spare two fingers in greeting before wobbling over to the freezer. For several moments he grabbed at the handle, making a variety of strained and undignified noises. Number XIII got up to help him but, unfortunately, the handle was unusually high on the kitchen appliance. The girl was about as successful as her mullet-ed friend.

"Oh, man…" Axel reluctantly pulled his person off the black and white chair when Risk turned and frowned sadly in his direction. Sighing, he shuffled across the floor. With a single movement he yanked the cursed door open. Demyx ungracefully deposited his bundle on one of the empty shelves and wiped off the beads of sweat from his forehead with one sticky glove.

"Where were you?" Risk asked.

"Uh, it's a long story…" Now that there was no large box hiding most of his face and chest, it was evident that he'd been up to something. Something blue and strange, because blue goo dotted his chin and cheeks, not to mention the long, messy smear now on his forehead. More of the sticky stuff was all over the front of Number IX's outfit. "You feel like listening to 'Our Lady Peace' tonight?"

"Okay! Goodnight, Mr. Axel!" Number VIII waved halfheartedly after his departing colleagues.

"…Yeah…"

Without the burden of a child or a guy with hair issues for the rest of the night, Axel wasn't quite sure what he was going to do for a while. Then it came to him like a monkey to a banana.

"Scrabble!"

**OOO**

It was about 8:45 p.m. when Risk and Demyx, who had by now cleaned up all of the blue mystery substance, came back into the common room. At first glance it looked like their colleagues were holding some sort of strategy meeting for a complicated and dangerous mission. The room was dead silent and all four of them were wearing deep, thoughtful expressions.

"Turtle," was the first word uttered. "No one's going to challenge that, are they?" Number XIII came closer to the table and watched in confusion as Zexion put some small wooden squares on what looked like some sort of game board. Upon further investigation, she saw the blocks had letters inscribed in them.

"Hey, it's Scrabble," Demyx pointed out.

"What's a scar-bell?"

"Scrabble. It's the game they're playing," he explained patiently. "Players have to spell words out on the board with the letters they have and-"

"Are you going to shut up so I can concentrate or what?" Larxene barked. Demyx whimpered pitifully as she furrowed her brow. A beat later, Number XII quickly arranged her letters on the board with the others. Axel, Zexion and Lexaeus all leaned forward to get a better look.

"'Qone'?" Axel asked disbelievingly.

"Trust me. _It's a word,_" Larxene whispered dangerously. "When someone really pisses me off….I QONE THE JACKASS!"

"Don't use that word," Demyx advised Risk.

"Qone or jackass?" Zexion inquired.

The Scrabble war raged on. Lexaeus's score was following Zexion's lead closely, Larxene threatening to leave all of the men in the dust if she could pull out another good word and Axel coming in dead last. A turn was wasted when he misspelled "lethargic" several times, eventually being forced out of the way by the Savage Nymph and her arsenal of very sharp, very lethal kunai. But it was still anyone's game. Tension mounted as the Silent Hero put his turn to good use.

"Gesture," he said. "Thirty."

"What?!" Axel exclaimed, almost knocking over his letters.

"Thirty," Lexaeus insisted as he lifted the "S" and indicated a triple word score. Mumbling, Number VIII punched the buttons of his calculator.

"Damn it!"

"Well," Larxene said, calmly rising from her chair, "I'll be back."

"Wh-Where are you going?" Axel asked, also getting up. Risk, whose chin rested on the table next to him, looked up curiously.

"To the kitchen," she replied, frowning slightly. Demyx snickered under the soft hum his sitar made, his nimble fingers stroking the strings from the cushion in front of the fireplace. He jumped slightly as a chord ended up louder than he intended.

"What are you going to do there?" Axel asked, attempting to sound casual as he placed a gloved hand on his chair.

"I'm thirsty," the Savage Nymph growled. Patience seeming to disappear, she stomped out of the common room, cursing the Flurry of Dancing Flames for his idiocy. Number VIII looked around before popping through the door after her. Raising an eyebrow, Risk spun around to ask Demyx what that was all about and was surprised to find he wasn't there. Reflexes made her head whip to the door as the last sign of his cloak disappeared.

"W-Wait for me!" She cried. Zexion and Lexaeus exchanged glances as the smallest Organizer hurried out of the room.

"I suppose our Scrabble game with Number VIII and Number XII has ended," Lexaeus said.

"Indeed. Would you care to play another game, one-on-one?" Zexion proposed.

"Certainly. I accept your challenge, Number VI."

Demyx reprised snickering mischievously as he peered through the kitchen door he'd opened a crack. From here he could easily spy on anyone and everyone without them realizing it. The Melodious Nocturne could see Luxord and Xigbar sharing a large bottle of rum at the dining table with ease, but ignored them for the most part. Instead, he focused on watching Axel watch Number XII lean into the refrigerator with a slightly fond, mostly perverted, look on his face. Larxene whirled around and slapped him quite hard in the face a moment later. Number VIII rubbed his sensitive cheek while she yelled in a particularly loud manner and pointed a jar of pickled beets at him threateningly.

"Oof!" Demyx was jolted out of his spying when a young girl crashed into him. Risk smiled brightly. "Hi!" Number IX put a finger over his mouth, then pointed it in the direction of the slightly open door. "What?" Risk asked innocently, poking her whole head into the crack. She opened it more, bumping the Melodious Nocturne and causing him to slip because of the freshly-waxed floor. With a yelp, he grabbed the door handle to catch his fall and pulled it open in the process. Since Risk was leaning on the wood dependently, she fell into the kitchen with a faint thud.

Axel and Larxene jerked their heads toward the loud squeak of the kitchen door. Number XII glared at Risk, picking herself up off the tiled floor, before suddenly slamming the refrigerator shut and leaving through the side entrance of the kitchen. Number VIII also made an attempt at a dignified exit but succeeded only in realizing that one of his hair pieces was caught in the door Larxene had slammed. Checking to see if anyone had noticed, he leaned casually against the refrigerator and folded his arms. Risk walked silently across the kitchen to him and discreetly opened the door to retrieve a bottle of water. Axel moved fractionally before she closed the appliance door again and waited a good length of time before slipping away, unnoticed.

Number XIII was about to leave the room and rejoin Demyx outside when a drunken yell stopped her.

"YO! Since you're, like, up an' stuff, bring us-HIC-some-HIC-pretzels. Would ya?" Risk hesitated but nodded and did what Number II had asked. As soon as she reached the table, Luxord's eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out, falling off of his chair and landing on the floor with a dull thud. Xigbar shook his head in disgust while fiddling with the lid of another liquor bottle.

"W-Well, goodnight, Mr. Sir…"

"Hold on a minute. Don't you wanna know how I lost my eye, kid?" The Freeshooter grinned maniacally before taking a big swing of alcohol.

"Maybe s-some other n-n-night," Risk stuttered.

"What? You scared of ol' Xiggy?" He asked, now on his feet, swaying unsteadily. She backed away slowly, but answered in a strong voice now.

"A little."

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the thick wooden door, Demyx was freaking out. He paced like a caged animal, mumbling to himself frantically.

"Xigbar's dangerous when he's drunk! Heck, he's always dangerous. What am I DOING?!" He let his head hit the wall. "No wonder Axel went after Larxene like that…must've known. He does _loooove_ her…okay! Let's do this, man! I'm gonna help Risk!" Feeling brave, the Melodious Nocturne summoned his sitar and charged through the double kitchen doors.

Right as Number II started coming closer to the child was when Demyx announced himself in a loud war cry.

"STOP!" Risk commanded.

"Don't worry! I'm here to help y-oh." The sight of Xigbar temporarily frozen in time made Number IX a little disappointed in a strange way. He looked down at his weapon and let out a controlled sigh. Risk didn't seem to even notice the poor water controller and left the kitchen shortly after admiring her own handiwork.

* * *

For those of you who are unaware, the made up word "qone" used in this chapter comes from an early episode of "Seinfeld." That's actually where I got the whole Scrabble match thing from.


	6. The Voices

Geez...that took awhile. But, hey, it's up.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Or Scrabble.

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**6. The Voices**

Humming joyfully, the Melodious Nocturne strolled in and flicked on the lights. He had a three second freeze upon spotting the small black lump on the red-fabric couch stuffed lovingly into the corner of the common room. Dismissing the sitar still held in his hands, Number IX went over and knelt by the lump's side. He prodded it gently with one gloved index finger. The lump let out a small moan and rolled over.

"Hi," Risk greeted, smiling weakly. Her voice was different from the usual soft, child-like hum Demyx had come to appreciate.

"What….what's up?" His face had an almost scared expression but his eyes still twinkled as he reached out to Risk. She pulled herself upright on the couch with use from Number IX's outstretched hands. Number XIII took in a sharp breath, then let it out slowly and painfully.

"Superior Xemnas…" She coughed. "He has big plans for me. I can tell."

**oOooOooOo**

Risk woke up early that morning to the strange melody of a scream that sounded hauntingly familiar. Unsuccessful at putting a name to a holler that early, she shrugged it off for the moment and headed to the first floor kitchen for sustenance.

As the young Organizer finished her breakfast of Marluxia's favourite cereal and peanut butter bread, for she was too small to reach the toaster, Number VII entered and scanned the room with an aura of unfortunate duty coming from that usually unfathomable person. It made Risk uncomfortable and hesitant when a sick grin spread across his face upon spotting her. She finally gathered the courage to move away from the dining table, trying hard to avoid Saix's gaze.

"He's staring at me," Risk whispered to herself. Zexion, who had been sitting closest to her on account of the absence of Axel and Demyx, couldn't help but look. Thoroughly disturbed by the expression Number VII now wore, he quietly left the room, inadvertently taking the morning paper with him.

"Thirteen," Saix said in that clear, not very loud yet still commanding tone worth envying. He motioned for her to follow and turned on his heel, not bothering to look back to see if Risk was obeying his silent and strict orders. She did, of course. Number XIII was docile to a fault, as she would soon discover.

Saix walked confidently down the hall, footfalls echoing in the eerie silence, and pressed the button to summon the castle elevator firmly. They stepped inside and waited awkwardly for the enclosed platform to reach its destination. Number XIII tapped her little boots to the beat of the elevator music until Saix looked down at her with a frown. She stopped immediately.

"S-Sorry…"

"Walk this way," he said stiffly as the metal doors slid open and another long white hall welcomed them. Head down, Risk followed, watching Saix's heels for guidance. She lagged behind more and more the farther they went, eventually losing sight of the Luna Diviner as he disappeared around a corner. By the time Risk noticed this, she found herself facing a complex intersection of corridors. The Luna Diviner's blue hair was nowhere to be seen. With a whimper, Number XIII peered around and jumped at the grating noise behind her. She whirled around and saw Number VII leaning on the wall of a hidden passage, previously concealed without detection. Saix jerked his head in a motion for her to proceed and gave her a look expressing "Please try to keep up or I shall go berserk on your ass."

The secret hallway ended abruptly where two doors some five feet apart stood ominously. Risk's escort opened the second and waved for her to go in. She shuffled through the doorway and looked back at him.

"Sit," Saix commanded before shutting the door with a bang. A chair, assumingly the one in which Risk was to sit, took center in the plain white room. Number XIII walked over to it cautiously, as if a dangerous animal would pounce on her if she didn't take utmost care. She sat. Nothing happened.

Perhaps, Risk thought to herself, this room was some sort of waiting area and she was going to be given a check-up by someone in the medical profession…or something. She considered that for a few long moments.

"Not bloody likely," she breathed, using a phrase learned from Luxord earlier that morning when she asked if there was any way that she could convince him to place a slice of bread in the toaster for her. He responded in that fashion and stormed off with a bottle of alcoholic beverage. Obviously he still held a grudge about what had happened between them involving the infirmary, Xemnas and toilets. Minutes went by before Risk tried to make herself comfortable and found her wrists held securely with metal braces secured to the chair's armrests. Freaking out by now, she let out a squeak of surprise. Number XIII froze at the faint _whirring_ sound that began without warning. A high-pitched ringing followed, making her want to cover her ears. It seemed to go on forever and felt like a million needles driving in the child's skull by the time it reached its peak. Then it stopped. In its place came the settling hum of a sitar. Risk automatically thought of Demyx and how fond he was of that instrument and that he sometimes bragged of how hard it was to learn to play it when he was in a funny mood.

In spite of herself, Risk relaxed and let her eyes close. Immediately she could feel them locking into place there. First she panicked but then Number XIII felt enraged all of a sudden. Then the voices came.

"Hi, Risk! Let's play Scrabble!" It sounded so much like Demyx that it fooled her completely for the first few moments. Risk stretched out her fingers but felt nothing except coldness.

"Demyx? I don't know how…"

"Sure ya do! Hey, I'll give you a few pointers. H-E-A-R-T spells Xemnas. R-I-S-K spells give."

"What?"

"We hate you," a new disembodied voice snarled cruelly.

"Mr. Axel? It can't be…"

"You only have one purpose," the voice continued," and you can't even fulfill it."

"Purpose! That's T-I-M-E!" The Melodious Nocturne went on gleefully.

"Train harder. Eat less. Drink only when the Superior tells you! Sleep…is optional."

Number XIII tried to move but it was like her body and thoughts were distant, separate from each other. It was scary, but it mainly made her feel angry. Maybe that's what the Superior wanted. Risk could "feel" happy, sad, scared and other such emotions but not hate or anger. Feel, yet not in the way one would normally use the word, for that was the essence of Nobodies. While advanced Nobodies could mimic emotions as they saw fit, Roxas and Risk were different. Roxas could truly feel jealousy. As a younger Nobody, Risk shouldn't have been able to know how to "feel" the way she does without training from Organization XIII. She did, however, and with such prowess that she even fooled herself. It was then, thinking of all these things, she broke through.

"No more. Please?" Risk forced movement into her body and regained control. Opening her eyes, Number XIII looked distinctively at the tiny black dot on the wall she hadn't noticed before. The whole world seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Can I go now?" She asked. The false presences of Axel and Demyx disappeared a moment later and the sitar stopped abruptly. The braces restraining Risk popped open and she stood up.

**oOooOooOo**

"I don't remember much after that. I think I just came here," she finished. The sitarist was quiet for awhile. Risk really didn't expect or want him to say anything. She just felt like telling someone and along came a friend, the only person who would have bothered hearing her out, with the possible exception of Number VIII. Demyx was doubtful that Risk knew exactly what the whole thing meant or if even he knew. So he did the only thing he could think of and wrapped his arms around Risk. Number XIII didn't know how to respond to a hug at first but slowly returned his embrace.

"Oh, how sweet," a cold voice said behind them. Risk shivered as the Melodious Nocturne let go to face the owner of that voice. The Savage Nymph glared at them with empty eyes. She sniffed and tilted her head so that she had to look down her nose at them. It was creepy, the way Larxene then gritted her teeth into a steely smile before the lights caught her eyes and made them gleam dangerously. There was a secret behind them, Risk could tell. A horrible secret meant only for her. "Tomorrow, then." With that, Larxene left without another word.

Number IX returned his attention to Risk.

"I haven't been staying with her," she admitted. "I've been staying here." Number XIII patted the couch halfheartedly.

"Risk…okay, come on." He stood up and pulled the girl with him. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and stumbled around a bit. Noticing this, Number IX smiled slightly and kneeled down, back towards her. "Did you ever get a piggyback before?" Demyx asked, looking over his shoulder. She shook her head. "Oh, alright…just climb on and…yeah, there we go…hold on, but don't worry, it's perfectly safe…gah! Not that tight!"

"Oh! Sorry," Risk apologized, releasing the Melodious Nocturne's neck and loosely draping her arms around his shoulders instead. He coughed a bit before holding her legs around the knees and standing up shakily under the burden. Truly an awkward sight, but neither cared.

They reached Demyx's room spared from any stares or unwanted run-ins with members of the Organization. Number IX had quickly reprised his role in being generally cheerful and it comforted Risk greatly, even if it was acting. As he grasped the doorknob, a pitiful groan made the Number XIII turn her attention away from Demyx's hand and toward a very tired Axel. He had dark circles under his eyes, almost camouflaging the black triangles, and was letting his head softly thump against the wall. When the Flurry of Dancing Flames realized Risk and Demyx were now watching him, he hurriedly half-turned and leaned on it coolly. The parties exchanged looks of confusion.

"Uh…hi," Number VIII greeted after a moment.

"Yeah, hey, how's it goin'?"

"Ah, you know. Can't complain." He and Demyx nodded at each other, Risk peering around his mullet and returning the gesture. "Well, I could complain a little," Axel admitted, pulling at his torn outfit. The three matching rips down the front exposed part of his pale chest and it looked at though what (or who) had done that also left a similar mark across his left cheek. Demyx and Risk both cocked their heads.

"Um…so what's the deal with-?"

"Tomorrow. And why's the kid-?"

"Tomorrow." Everyone nodded at each other again before lapsing into silence. Axel began backing up slowly towards his room and the Melodious Nocturne turned to his door. Risk, who was too tired to even offer a goodbye, yawned widely and laid her head on his shoulder.

**OOO**

Number XIII woke up sometime later that night under a warm, dark blue blanket. She sat up and became subconsciously aware that she'd been put to sleep in Demyx's bed. Looking around the dark, she could make out the silhouette of his surround sound system and the closet in which he kept what seemed like all the CDs ever made. Easiest to spot, however, was a dim light on in the corner, close to the bed. There Number IX sat cross-legged while paging through a magazine, humming quietly. Risk slid out of bed with the silence of a prowling tiger and crawled over to him. Thanks to the thick shadows, Demyx didn't see her until she tugged on his sleeve, causing him to jump and yelp in surprise.

"Demyx?" Risk rubbed against his arm affectionately. "I can't sleep."

"Yeah? You know what I do when I can't sleep?" he asked, a grin tickling the corners of his mouth.

"What? What?"

"Axel taught me this awhile ago."

"Well, what is-" Risk interrupted herself upon noticing that Demyx was making his way around stacks of magazines and to the door. She was quick to follow.

The hallways were oddly still at that time of night and the only light on in the kitchen was that of the freezer. Risk was practically hanging off of the Melodious Nocturne's coat for comfort until he patted her head and made the girl sit down at the dining table. She pulled her chair close to his.

"Ta-da!" Demyx presented two blue ice creams, one for Risk and the other his own. She took it unsurely, wondering if anything blue was safe to eat. "They're really good," he assured her, beginning to devour the curious thing. Number XIII attempted to copy the way he shoved the whole bar into his mouth but, given her small jaw, settled with licking it.

"Salty…yet sweet."

"Like it?"

"I like it, I like it!" Number IX grinned and finished his ice cream quickly, pretending to be interested in the stick while Risk took longer with hers.

Soon they were walking down the dark hall again and she was feeling much better. Nothing happened on the way back to Demyx's room, save for a Sniper staring at them as they passed it, but that was normal. Lesser Nobodies had a tendency to watch others. Risk stared back at it for awhile but then bit her lip and went back to grasping Demyx's coat.

**OOO**

Again Number XIII woke up. This time the clock silently counting off minutes from the wall indicated it was four in the morning. Though it was just the right hour for the Superior, Vexen and Saix to rise, no one else pulled themselves out of bed until seven or later. Much later, in some cases. Either way, Number IX still lay curled up next to his bed. The same bed, of course, he insisted Risk take. So it was without really thinking she rolled off it to join him on the floor. Quietly, minding the sleeping Nocturne, Risk pulled off the dark blue blanket from the bed and laid it over him. She scurried under it herself and sighed with contentment before falling back asleep, warm and safe near Demyx.

* * *

I'm hoping the next chapter will be up Saturday or Sunday.

Reviews are nice... :D


	7. Gentler Times

Here we go! After fussing over minute details and spending almost two days just typing it up, I present chapter seven of XIII Replacement.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Yeah.

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**7. The Wettest of Dreams**

Silence in the Superior's office could kill. Yelling, the Organization had agreed, was much preferred. Then, at least, he wouldn't frown like that and stare so piercingly with his unreal orange eyes. But no, today Xemnas wanted to see seven's breaking point. He'd apparently found something very interesting with his folded hands and that's where Number VII's gaze stayed for quite awhile. Xemnas finally got up from his grand rolling chair quite unexpectedly, bumping the side of his white-painted oaken office desk. A pen rolled out of place and, lour still etched on the Superior's face like someone had chiseled it on, he moved it back to its rightful spot on the desk, tip pointed accusingly at Saix. He cleared his throat almost obnoxiously and crossed the box-shaped room to his important metal filing cabinet looking lonely by the window. A key with the usual Nobody insignia fashioned on the end was produced from within Xemnas's coat and he used it to unlock one of the cabinet's drawers. Only then, with an undignified squeak from the metal rollers, did Saix's attention come off his hands.

The Luna Diviner turned his head ever-so-slightly to the right in an attempt to figure out his actions. After he'd retrieved the desired folder and sat back in his comfortable chair dwarfing the one his subordinate was seated in, seven jerked his eyes away. The Superior pretended not to notice, instead plopped the thick document onto the desk, making Saix flinch and sending a few dust particles into the air.

"Number VII," Xemnas said in a calm tone. "Allow me one word to describe what you did: foolish. Perhaps elaborating would be to your benefit…?"

"Mmm," he mumbled in reply.

"Releasing her with insufficient data wasn't your orders, were they? It borders on the idiotic, in my perfectly valid opinion. Now I'll have to resort to plan B…but just because I have other ways to get what I need—no, what this organization needs—doesn't mean that you will go unpunished, as you know." Melodramatically, he flipped open the folder and ran his writing hand to the pen situated near Saix.

"No…you can't do this," Number VII whispered, eyes wide with realization.

"It is well within my power and I certainly will," his better said coldly. "This incident will follow you for the rest of your non-existence." Saix watched in horror as Xemnas scribbled mercilessly on the paper. He gripped his chair tightly and a single, unnoticed yet perfect tear rolled down one cheek before disappearing into the fibers of his black cloak.

Several long moments passed before the Superior stopped writing and put down that cursed pen. The Luna Diviner had his head down, currently disregarding the world in his own personal bubble of thought.

"You are dismissed, seven," he said in an oddly gentle voice.

"I need a minute," Saix murmured into his gloved hands.

"Er…" Just then someone knocked on the door, two sharp authoritative sounds that were heard clearly from inside. "Come in…if you must," Xemnas called, adding the last part silently to himself. Xaldin entered and offered a stiff bow of his head to the Superior.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you at such a late hour, sir, but I have something very important to tell you." He paused, catching sight of Number VII. "Um…were you _crying, _seven?"

"No," Saix answered quickly.

**OOO**

Axel was a silent observer in the common room while waiting for morning hunger to strike him. Stretched out comfortably on the sofa, he had a wonderful view of the card game going on between Luxord and Zexion-or, rather, how Number VI was protesting about the inclusion of munny in their "friendly match." Bent over near them was the Graceful Assassin, fussing over the room's pathetic little potted plant that he'd labeled as overwhelmingly lonely and neglected. And as always, the Silent Hero was keeping to himself as he browsed the _Nonexistent Herald_. Personally, Axel would never read such a dull newspaper that half its contents revolved around the inner workings of Dusk throngs, which was basically lesser Nobody gossip. Though Lexaeus, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the funnies included at the end. His colleagues knew this from that tell-tale guttural sort of chortle disguised by a cough and serious frown.

The Flurry of Dancing Flames, too absorbed in watching other people to notice someone else enter the room, almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden light weight on his chest. The small Organizer drew back in surprise but smiled at Axel toothily. He raised those thin eyebrows of his and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Sorry I startled you, Mr. Axel. Are you waiting for something?" Number XIII asked curiously.

"Not really." Satisfied enough with his answer, she sat down on the couch with him.

"Demyx told me to wait for him out here," she stated. As if on cue, a burst of water broke off the door and poured inside, most of it being soaked up by the carpet. Risk jumped up in a flourish of black fabric at the sure sign of Number IX and peered around hopefully. Marluxia yelped in fear for his new friend and ran to open the main hall door before scooting back to get his potted plant, shrieking in distress about over-watering. The rest of the Organizers simply went back to their morning activities, unwilling to fight the unavoidable.

"DANCE WATER, DANCE!" Frantic sitar music filled their ears and then the Melodious Nocturne appeared via surf, drenching everything and everyone with cold water. He passed through quickly thanks to the swift flow, grabbing Risk's hand on the way and saving her from the worst of it. Before they knew it, he'd disappeared out the door left open in the wake of Number XI. "Woohoo! YEAH! Thank you, Organization XIII!" Demyx called.

Even with the most hasted of glances one could tell that the others were less than pleased with being soaked to the skin. Unmoving and still frowning, Lexaeus settled with sitting and staring over the top of the floppy _Herald_, words now blurred beyond hope of ever being able to be read again. Luxord had quieted down and was now knocking back ale of some exotic sort, obviously smuggled out of the Superior's private cupboard. No one had noticed Number VI slowly lower his head until it made contact with the table but care: he did not. As for the state of all the gentlemen's hair, that was a place one shouldn't dare to venture (the exception of Luxord's hairdo being noted). But, wet as they all were, Axel looked by far the worst. Nevertheless, he got up, shook his head to send water droplets flying in all directions, wrung out and particularly damp part of his cloak and left for his morning meal.

"Dude, you're soaked," Xigbar observed upon seeing the Flurry of Dancing Flames in the hall. He stopped, turned toward the Freeshooter and calmly said,

"I am aware." With that, eight strolled off to the kitchen.

As he suspected, Larxene was lounging around at the head of the dining table, chair leaning back far enough for its front legs to leave the floor and dirty boots where Xemnas's food was usually served. She was rereading _Marquis de Sade_ and was grinning from ear to ear, which would have made practically anyone run for the hills just as soon as they saw her. Unlike those wimps, Axel thought it was charming. Risk and Demyx were also there, as one would have assumed from the commotion they put up earlier, and she waved to Number VIII cheerfully. He hesitated at an empty chair beside hers, glancing carefully at the Savage Nymph, but joined the two kids anyway.

"Hey Axel. So the place was packed-_loaded-_with cheering people. There must've been THOUSANDS! We all turned out to hear them play," Demyx recalled excitedly, waving his fork and speared chunk of pancake around and dripping a small quantity of maple syrup onto the floor in the process.

"Wow!" Number XIII exclaimed, sharing in his enthusiasm. They chattered on happily to each other, Demyx regaling her with tales of his past, neither seeming to think much of Axel's waterlogged clothing or dripping red hair. He was, however, in fairly high spirits considering the situation.

The three Nobodies finished with breakfast and the Melodious Nocturne was first to push back his chair--right into Marluxia. He sputtered a curse from the weighty object now puncturing his big toe but managed to compose himself quickly and casually moved the chair aside as nine slid out of the way. Demyx stared openly at the Graceful Assassin, flinching when he raised his hand in a friendly hello.

"A pleasant morning, my comrade, my brother in the black hood, my favourite nocturne-composer. May I trouble you with an inquiry before you depart, on your way to attend to whatever business you have?"

"Um…I don't think we have any of those," he replied uncomfortably. Marluxia looked blank but then almost split his own ears with phony laughter upon pretending to pick up on the joke, despite the fact that Demyx didn't intend one.

"BWA HAHAHAHAHA! AR HAR HAR HAR HAR! Ha…ha…that's a good one, my fellow Organizer and wonderful sitarist." Number IX grimaced and raised an eyebrow, stepping back defensively and into the empty chair closest to his. It scraped against the floor in a loud, offensive screech. Risk observed the Graceful Assassin carefully and sunk down lower so that her nose was barely visible from across the table.

"What are you doing?" Axel asked, leaning towards her slightly.

"I'm keeping a low powfile. Prrowfile. Profile!" she whispered forcefully as she tried out the word for the first time. Number XIII indicated Marluxia by jerking her head in his direction. "He's scaring me."

"…Yeah, I'd have to agree," eight admitted when Demyx started scrambling backwards over the vacant chairs to distance himself from Number XI.

"Don't be afraid of me, my friend. I only wish to ask a simple question."

"I should really go now cause…cause I really have to…water my, er…fish! Bye!" He bolted from the kitchen, knocking over a chair and receiving a death glare from Larxene when he yelped. Number XIII sat up straight and gazed sadly after her fleeing companion.

"He promised to play sitar for me this morning," she pouted. Axel shrugged helplessly and helped himself to Demyx's untouched blueberry muffin. "Mr. Axel, what do you do for fun?"

"Well…" He looked over at Number XII mischievously and a few crumbs fell from his mouth. Catching sight of Risk's innocent yet curious expression from the corner of his eye, the Flurry of Dancing Flames swallowed his mouthful with difficulty and gave her the flicker of a smile. "Stuff." After a few more silent minutes wherein Axel decided to shut up and eat, Risk got up and left the kitchen to attempt locating Demyx.

She got only a few paces down the hall before suddenly immersed in guilt. Lately she hadn't been spending nearly as much time with Axel as she used to. Instead Number XIII stuck with the Melodious Nocturne, following him wherever the water flowed, and found she'd, most regrettably, picked favourites.

"Ohh…I can't do that to Mr. Axel! He's my friend, too!" she cried out loud suddenly, getting a jump from a Gambler on the way to his wet master's side. "Oops. Sorry, sir." Risk watched the Nobody leave and then whirled around and made for the large double doors that marked the kitchen. For a moment the girl thought she'd gone mad as something felt caught around her waist. Then Risk realized she wasn't yet mad and started to scream before a firm gloved hand covered her mouth.

"Finally, Risk, you're alone and vulnerable. I have a favour to ask…" She assumed that whoever it was then took them through a dark portal, because the endless blackness consumed and closed her eyes.

**OOO**

She laughed coldly.

"Oh, yes. My, did _I_ do that? I didn't realize." Larxene swung her feet off the table and let her chair crash obnoxiously back onto solid ground. She rose and took hold of Axel's partially shredded and wet coat loosely with thumb and forefinger. Number VIII gulped at the mere feel of those digits and noted that they were daintier than he thought. With a strange sense of dumb realization, he remembered that yes, Larxene was a woman. A non-existent woman, like he was a non-existent man, but a woman nonetheless. Grinning like an idiot, he half-listened, half-daydreamed as she talked about…something. Perhaps Axel wasn't listening as much as he thought.

"And wipe that GOD DAMNED STUPID LOOK off your face! _IDIOT!_"

"Well…"

"Well what?" the Savage Nymph barked.

"Well it's obvious."

"_What's _obvious?" Larxene's patience was similar to draining the cheap sinks often used throughout the Castle That Never Was. It was a sputtering monstrosity that disappeared quickly and left no traces of its previous being. Still the Flurry of Dancing Flames spoke with confidence-or stupidity, depending on how one looked at it.

"Clearly you want me. And, hell, I want you, too. So why should we fight it anymore?" While she was caught in a brief moment of confusion, Axel wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into a tight hug.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!! **YOU-**" Here Number XII let loose with a torrent of harsh and mostly four-lettered insults, adding some of the more colourful words here and there to make things interesting. Even he was surprised at how fluent and without pause her cursing came. Finally Larxene finished and violently shoved eight away. To no surprise, out came the kunai, a sharp and painful jab to the chest and then she raised her arms with an outright roar.

All Axel remembered from the next few moments were a brilliant flash of light, the feeling of momentarily soaring through the air and the ominous thud of his own landing. Eventually he heard the hushed muttering of three distantly familiar voices. A good hard shake helped rouse him and the voices became clearer. Number VIII pinned them pretty fast, though one was yammering on more than the other two, and soon the blurriness of his vision went away. The first image was not exactly a welcoming sight, since it was Saix trying to force something into his mouth and a blood-soaked cloth on his chest. _Great,_ the Flurry of Dancing Flames though sarcastically, _I really need to be force-fed something by this guy._ Reluctantly, he opened and almost choked on whatever it was.

"Hrm," was all Number VII said in acknowledging Axel's cooperation.

For the first time, eight became consciously aware that he was lying sprawled across the kitchen floor, some joints at odd angles, and a sensation of odd emptiness looming over his mind.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," one of them warned. "You just lost the rest of your blood and given the fact that we don't have hearts, you'll have to do without. It might take some time to adjust, unfortunately…"

"Ugh…sick!" That was the first thing Axel managed to say. He became vaguely aware that someone was prowling around behind the three "helping" him and lifted his head to see who it was. Indeed, it was Larxene. Despite being advised not to move, Number VIII got unsteadily to his feet.

"…we got here, we were surprised to find that only you and the Savage Nymph were present," Xaldin was saying when Axel began to pay attention. "You two were…"

"Doing something inappropriate near the kitchen table," Saix finished smoothly for the Whirlwind Lancer.

"She said a lot of obscenities and then…how did you put it, twelve?"

"I DAMN WELL SHOCKED THE CRAP OUT OF THE PERVERT!" Larxene screamed, shaking with fury.

"Thank you," Xaldin said. While he and the Luna Diviner explained what they saw in more detail to Axel in wisely quiet voices, the Superior had approached Number XII slowly and calmly with his hand extended, palm up. Neither made any sudden movements so Xemnas then proceeded to escort her stiffly to the kitchen doors, chattering soothingly to the Savage Nymph. She looked at Number VIII a few times, but the Superior always drew her attention back to him.

"…then, perhaps, we'll meet later and we can discuss anything you wish like mature adults over a nice warm cup of ginger root. I thank you very much for not killing anyone today…" They heard him say as he passed the group, clustered together for those moments in the immediate presence of Larxene. After she was gone, Xemnas walked swiftly back to the others.

"Well, I kinda should be going, too…"

"You will do no such thing. You will sit down and we will explain the real reason as to why I came down from the top floor of this bloody castle to mingle with you underlings before my paperwork was done," the Superior stated.

"Um…could you repeat-?"

"Sit. Down. Now."

**OOO**

Sighing, Demyx closed and tossed away the old magazine he'd been leafing through aimlessly. It landed softly on top of the countless others spread on the floor around him. He needed something fun to do, something to remind him that things could be made better. Perhaps an activity he enjoyed but hadn't participated in for a long time…

All of a sudden it came to him. Joyfully, the Melodious Nocturne propelled himself off the blue bean bag chair and bounded over to his closet. He closed one eye and scrunched up his nose, as he typically does in thought, before pulling out an old box set snuggled in with the others. Giddily Demyx leapt over to his beloved surround sound system and inserted the appropriated CD. Nine selected the desired track, pushed play and dove for his slender, silver microphone hidden from prying eyes underneath a fold in the carpet. Too caught up in the introduction instrumental, he failed to realize his bedroom door open. So he began to sing in his whiney voice, loud and clear, oblivious to the audience.

"You caught my fall, makin' out on alcohol

An innocent mistake

Fallin' in love on accident, I didn't mean to

And constant danger, constant stranger

It started out so _sweet_

And now we're both feelin' incomplete

Oh, I don't know how much I can take…

We're on, we're off

**We're knocked down and getting' uhh-up!**

**We try to fight it, oh the agony and ecstasy**

**And it's painful, but it's worth it**

'**Cause you're so foxy and I think you're kinda good for me…**

**Oh, you're so foxy!"**

Demyx looked around for the remote to turn up the volume during the part in which he mumbled through the lyrics on account of he didn't know them and in turn spotted Number VIII in the doorway, mouth hanging open and eyebrows asking "why?"

"Oh…hi Axel," he greeted in a quiet voice, eyes studying his feet. Instead of asking uncomfortable questions, Axel decided to keep it brief and asked him for assistance in searching for Risk. Snapping out of embarrassment, he looked up and cocked an eyebrow.

"Why?" the Melodious Nocturne asked.

"Superior's orders," eight replied, rolling his eyes. "It's one of those 'need to know basis' things." Axel was involved with seeing how far the doorknob would turn, but gave up on that and tapped his foot impatiently. "Are you coming or what?"

With some well-placed information from a nosy Dragoon, the meager search party assembled in front of a solid white door with the carving of a rose. Naturally, this meant Marluxia was on the opposite side, much to the dismay of Demyx.

"She was probably wrong. I really don't think Risk would hang out _here..._"

"Well, it's worth a shot."

"But-"

"What, you'd rather wander around the whole damn castle looking for her while she's in here the whole time? Have some compassion, I got stabbed this morning!"

"Okay! You didn't have to shout," Number IX moped. "…You knock, okay?" Axel huffed and barged in.

"Ah, yes…our flowers are blooming marvellously. I must thank you, young Number XIII."

"Sure." The Graceful Assassin didn't notice Axel and Demyx intrude, but Risk turned and, dropping the watering can she was holding up with both hands, ran to them like they'd been gone for years. Number XIII reached Demyx and hugged his legs, then pulled lovingly on the Flurry of Dancing Flame's coat. After that she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself so she simply hung on to both of their hands. Marluxia had straightened from kneeling in his beloved flower beds and was now standing rigidly across the room. He looked like he wanted to offer a comment, but a loud screeching interrupted the calm atmosphere of his flower garden and made everyone cover their ears.

"ATTENTION, ORGANIZATION XIII!" Xemnas's voice shouted over the intercom. "ALL ORGANIZERS MUST GATHER IN THE MAIN KITCHEN IMMEDIATELY! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" Another ear-splitting ring indicated that the message had ended. Number XI glanced around at the others before retreating into a convenient corridor of darkness.

"What's a futile?" Risk asked as she followed Axel and Demyx out to the elevator.

* * *

I should slip in that the song Demyx was singing belongs to No Doubt. It's called "You're So Foxy," by the way and that's really all you need to know. Hee hee, he was singing and Axel was listening so it's funny. OMG OMG OMG.

YEAH! NO DOUBT RULES!


	8. Lunar Calling

The last chapter is exactly the same except the title of it, which I changed upon, let's say, "realizing something." If you have no clue of what I'm talking about, good. Let's keep it that way. Anyway, please, enjoy this next chapter and remember: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do own Risk. Ain't she sweet?

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**8. Lunar Calling**

Xemnas surveyed the Nobodies carefully. Seated round the table according to number, most looked either confused or hungry. A few were wet, strangely enough, but the Superior assumed this had something to do with the soaked carpet flooring the common room and puddles in the main hallway, not to mention Demyx sitting like a quiet little nonexistent angel today. Right now he didn't want to deal with all that, for there were much larger concerns on his mind. Small potatoes, as the expression goes, though he did take note of the Gambler of Fate and his shifty expression. Undoubtedly this meant the source of his disappearing rum.

"Now," Xemnas began, having cleared his mind of those other trivial things. Number XIII looked up to him at the head of the table, shivering slightly as her body realized how cold the kitchen actually felt. "I'm sure you're curious as to the purpose of this assembly."

"Not really!" someone shouted obnoxiously.

"**SILENCE!**" he bellowed. "This is a serious matter, not some game for your amusement!" The Superior waited for several tense moments. Risk trembled. Number IX slid down in his chair to make himself less obvious. The Savage Nymph tapped her fingers on the table mutely. "Pay attention. Last night Number III came to my office to report a curious sight. He had apparently gone off without my consent some days ago-" Xemnas stopped momentarily to shoot a stern glance at Xaldin, who make a mumbling noise in apology. "-to chase down another rogue Berserker that had made off with one of the gummi ships that Lexaeus and Zexion worked hard to steal. On the way back he saw something fall from Kingdom Hearts." A hushed muttering rose and fell over the Organization as they shifted and exchanged looks. "Furthermore, he observed it get pulled in by Wind City's gravitational field."

"What?! No way!"  
"Holy flaming cow!"

"He's kidding, right? This is a joke…right?"

"How can this be?"

"The Superior said so. It _must_ be!"

"But it shouldn't be!" Soon everyone started yelling over each other, much to the annoyance of the Superior.

"**ENOUGH!**" he shouted impatiently, pushing back his chair with a loud scrap and pounding a fist on the table. "This is no time to panic!" The room simmered down and then became silent, all the while Risk looking confusedly around, wondering why they would react so strongly to the mere mention of this world. "This situation is hereby directly under my control. Information will be reported to _me_ above anyone else. No one leaves the castle without my permission and the ships will be in lock-down until I say otherwise. More importantly, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU IS ON STAND-BY." The room remained silent as Xemnas cleared his throat and continued more calmly. "Be prepared for the worst. Is that clear?" A few cautious looks were exchanged but no one moved, save for Demyx. He raised a finger for attention and sat up a little straighter when he was called upon.

"Um…what, exactly, would the worst be?" Number IX asked in a small, squeaky voice. The Superior stared in the empty way of a Nobody forgetting to feel before blinking rapidly and stretching his fingers on the dining table.

"No questions, then? Good. That'll be all," he finished firmly, making Demyx glue his mouth shut and avoid Xemnas's eyes.

An odd quiet set in as the Superior departed, Saix and Xaldin following him dutifully. The rest of the Organization sat for another minute, pretending to get themselves together, adjusting their cloaks and whatnot uncomfortably. Larxene preceded the rest, stopping briefly behind Axel and catching his attention with the glint of cold steel, making it obvious to Number VIII that his company was unwelcome. It was her kind way of telling him to screw off or die, as she would have put it, had the Savage Nymph spoken. No one else noticed, so gradually the room emptied out, voices barely above whispers to each other. The Flurry of Dancing Flames went out to contemplate in the hall, wondering what trouble he could possibly get into now while the Superior was distracted, and caught sight of Demyx shuffling sadly away from the kitchen, eyes down as well as spirits.

"Hey, water-boy! Where's the kid?" He glanced up at Axel.

"She asked me if we had a library and left me…all alone…with no one else…because I'm alone…"

"Oh. Okay." The Melodious Nocturne whimpered as Axel casually strolled away.

**OOO**

Having spent an hour alone in his room with nothing but a powerful blow dryer, Zexion felt confident that he would no longer catch a chill from being damp or make embarrassing _squish-squashing_ sounds with each step. Therefore he was more than ready to summon the elevator up to the castle library and make good on his personal oath to read every book they had collected. The Cloaked Schemer breathed deeply at the thought of countless pages and the most captivating smell of untouched leather bindings. It was he alone who enjoyed scouring out hidden books, spared from the childish quarreling of his colleagues, though Larxene would come up on occasion. Many times had he dug out a thorough and still crisp encyclopedia or brushed the dust off a long-forgotten true story awaiting someone to find and explore it. Even more often did an engrossing novel he was three-quarters into go missing when he called it a day the time before and put it back on the nearby shelf. Perhaps they would be rediscovered again someday. Knowledge was his reward, despite the rather inappropriate debates among some of the more crude members of the Organization, Axel for instance, who'd argue that he was really just trying to find where all those "adult magazines" are hidden. That incident certainly contributed to the list of the reasons Zexion no longer communicated with him. But oh, it was a strange and wonderful place, his library. Children would've undoubtedly called it magic, had there been any young visitors.

Number VI stepped off the elevator between floors nine and ten-a curious location, probably a joke among the designers of the Castle That Never Was-and glanced around the vast room. A sea of shelves spread out before him, rows upon rows going on for quite awhile. Each of their mahogany sections were filled with books. Gracefully, he strode down the center aisle and randomly picked a novel. Further down was the sitting area, a few tables at the back with their own lamps and several comfortable chairs around a small oaken coffee table, also loaded down with books in a fashion similar to that of the actual shelves. As usual, Zexion picked the seat to his right and almost sat down on a large pile of informational texts. He unconsciously raised an eyebrow and moved them onto the table, the thick thud they made echoing out ominously.

"Oh, be careful, Mr. Schemer!"

He jumped noticeably, for until then he thought he was alone as usual. In the largest armchair, the one that happened to be on his left, curled up with an atlas seemingly bigger than herself, rested young Number XIII. Both watched each other as Zexion sat down unsurely and began fidgeting with his novel. With a faint smile to him, Risk went back to searching her book. The rustle of turning pages, followed by a tired sigh, interested the Cloaked Schemer.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Her eyes shot up from the volume in surprise, for this was the first time he'd ever actually spoken to her. Hands folded calmly, Zexion stared back evenly at his associate, waiting for an answer. _He seems different here…not so gloomy anymore,_ Risk thought.

"Well…I want to find out about that Wind City place, but I can't find any books about it. Did I say something?" she asked shyly when Number VI's serene expression fell.

"Wind City…" he murmured.

"Yeah! It's just that everyone seemed kind of…ker-bobbled when Superior Xemnas…um, Mr. Schemer? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine! I'm just fine!" Zexion shouted back forcefully. Seeming to come to himself, he looked around before apologizing for his outburst and lowering his gaze to the book sitting in his lap. He didn't even flinch when a disruptive beeping sound rang out from Risk's cloak.

"Oh…forgot about Marluxia…got to help him…roses," she explained, more to herself than him. She toyed with the small pink pager on her way to the elevator, glancing once back at Zexion. He rubbed his temples distractedly.

**OOO**

"Number IX," Saix addressed formally. He didn't seem to hear the Luna Diviner, who'd approached his chair from behind, and went on tapping his feet raucously. "Number IX!" Demyx still didn't respond and thumped his hands on the armrests, head-banging like there was something wrong with him. "**DEMYX!"** he thundered, receiving a few offended looks from the other Organizers. The Melodious Nocturne, on the other hand, jumped, jerked his head from left to right and left once more, before having the sense to turn all the way and yank out his earphones. It took a moment for Number IX to collect himself again, which he did while staring at Saix and trying to regulate his breathing.

"Wh-What do you want?" he whimpered, hurt in his voice. Number VII straightened, looked down at his colleague with superiority and spoke.

"You and Number XIII will be departing tomorrow in Axel's company. I suggest you inform her."

"Right, Axel's company…wait, what do you mean?" Saix sighed impatiently.

"It means the Superior wants what's down on Wind City and a party is being sent to retrieve it. You are part of that party."

"Ohhhh. Wait a sec! You're sending the wrong guy! Remember what happened at the Olympus Coliseum? Then at Hollow Bastion? I'm not cut out for this stuff! Let me stay-take Larxene!" Demyx squealed pitifully as Number VII turned to go. "What about Xaldin? _He's_ the guy with the lances and-and…fighting ability!"

"Number III is needed here. It wouldn't matter anyway-the Superior has decided. You leave after breakfast," Saix said, unfazed by his distress.

"NOOOOOOOO!!!" Lexaeus and Xigbar stared silently at the Melodious Nocturne as he performed several fine death wails. He finally finished with his head back, fingers digging into his mullet like one might do if they were attempting to tear out their hair.

"You may want to compose yourself before then," the Luna Diviner added in a bored, blunt manner.

"Yeah, fine." Demyx lowered his arms and drooped, muttering as Saix became out of earshot. "Stupid Mr. Know-It-All jerk face…if I get hurt, it's all his fault."

Glancing around self-consciously, he slowly brought himself to stand and walked silently out of the room. He went to the kitchen without thinking and upon finding no one was there, curiously enough, had a sudden craving for ice cream. Demyx smiled cheerfully. Of course the large box he'd smuggled in from Twilight Town some time ago would again prove worth the trouble. Soon the Superior would have to accept his proposal of an ice cream factory in the World That Never Was.

"There you are!" a voice shouted jubilantly.

"I didn't do it!" Number IX exclaimed in reflex. Axel raised a thin eyebrow and slid his eyes to the side for a moment. "Oh. Uh, hi Axel." Blushing slightly, Demyx lowered his caught-in-the-act arms, ice cream bar clutched tightly in one hand, and shut the freezer from behind. He didn't say anything more and instead examined his boots, so Axel took it as an opportunity to say what he needed to.

"Whatever. Listen, you've heard about tomorrow, right?" Number VIII asked, voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Yeah, Saix told me…oh, yeah! I have to tell Risk!" As soon as the words left his mouth, she appeared from around the counter near Axel. Looking up in turn to both of them like they meant the world, Risk bounced on her heels anxiously.

"Can I have some ice cream, too?"

So over the distinctive flavour of salty-sweet ice cream it was explained to Number XIII of this mission. To her ears it sounded fun, though she did wonder at the solemn expression on the Flurry of Dancing Flame's face and the unusually careful way Demyx chose his words.

"And it'll be like a…scavenger hunt and then we can go home," he finished quickly. Again Demyx resumed devouring his blue bar nervously, eyes darting around the table from Axel to Risk beside him. She bobbed her head enthusiastically and finished off her ice cream with one more bite.

"So that means we're in this together, right?"

"…Yeah," Number VIII answered. Risk moved around in her chair, hoisting herself up to the knees so she could reach across the table. She put out her hand and, catching on, Demyx contributed his. Axel smiled in that sly way of his and offered his own hand on top. They looked each other and finally acknowledged their trust with silent nods.

* * *

Heh. Harry Potter reference in there :)

If you liked this one, or any of the others, or have some other sort of comment, or just don't really know what to do with yourself, feel free to review.


	9. Wind City

**9. Wind City**

Axel leaned casually by the sliding door, munching on a glob of bright pink bubble gum while trying to break Xaldin's biggest bubble record. He'd gotten close a couple of times, but the record held by the Whirlwind Lancer had defended for nearly six months. Again failing at an attempt, the Flurry of Dancing Flames checked his watch. Surely the others would be along any minute now…it was well after breakfast, that was certain. He came off the wall and started to pace around the hangar a bit, taking in the colours that no self-respecting vessel would want to be painted. But alas, that was what came from stealing gummi ships. There were a fair share of black and white ships, at least, the ships built from scratch by Dusks and Dragoons (who were surprisingly good with tools) back when there was time for such trivial matters. Most were rather small, he noticed, seating between one and three passengers plus cargo room. Axel stopped abruptly by one of the few larger vessels and wrinkled his nose with distaste. It was _yellow_.

"…Damn." Don't take the unassuming, quick and stylish corridor of darkness for granted, as a fellow Nobody would put it. Axel then swore to himself that he'd never ride in a brightly coloured ship like the one stationed here. Especially if the bright colour it was painted in happened to be yellow.

A Dancer came over to him moments later, jittering in the way they do, and offered Number VIII an old-fashioned key. It had a dull golden hue and a short row of teeth; quite unimpressive but it did the job as far as keys go.

"Well, if it isn't one of Demyx's kids. What?" The Nobody insisted that he took the key and gestured to a roomy black and white ship near the far wall. Axel breathed a sigh of relief.

**OOO**

Saix gave a brief nod of perception.

"Yes, Superior. I can see the genius in your plan. But…there is one detail I don't understand."

"And that is?" Xemnas asked in vague amusement. He hesitated for a moment, but came out with his point in an unusually blunt fashion.

"Why are you sending Number IX? He's miserably failed every assignment or mission given to him except the single occasion I requested a pot of coffee as his superior, Superior. And then it was noticeably watery! Sir," the Luna Diviner finished solemnly.

"It's simple. The girl has a connection to him. She feels comfortable with Demyx in a way that the underlings couldn't possibly understand. Nor can you," Xemnas added. "And if something were to happen…" It made Saix nervous, the way he trailed off. "Seven," he said after awhile, taking on a more relaxed tone, "you're aware, of course, that there has been a sort of…schism in the Organization since it has grown."

"Yes, Superior." He didn't know where this was going. That made him rather unsettled. He didn't like not having an idea of what Xemnas was going to say next.

"As a matter of fact, I've noticed that there hasn't been a time of complete unity and, if you'll excuse the pun, organization since we were far from thirteen. Just the Original Six. Don't you think so?"

"It seems so, yes, but I believe it started with Castle Oblivion and M-" Saix didn't realize where that sentence was going until he said it. "Marluxia, sir." The Superior surveyed him with those orange eyes of his. Finally he picked up his pen and tapped it on a stack of papers.

"I appreciate your forwardness," he said, choosing his words carefully, "but if that's all, I have quite a ghastly amount of paperwork that I must attend to.

**OOO**

"Apparently I've been elected to drive," Axel mused, looking first at Demyx, jittering much like the Lesser Nobodies did from the three cups of coffee he had consumed at breakfast, then down to Risk. There was no doubt that the girl would've been able to drive better that her idol, but she was far from legal driving age. On a more realistic note, she was still a little short of being able to get a good view over the dashboard.

"I can! Let me! Let me!" the Melodious Nocturne chanted, hopping up and down in excitement.

"No."

"Come on! Give me a chance, just one chance, I can do it! Please?"

"No thanks, I'd rather get there in one piece."

"Oh, come on, come on, come on!"

"…Oh, alright!" he shouted back grudgingly.

"SWEET!" Demyx pushed passed him and dove for the steering apparatus that reminded him so much of an arcade game he spent many happy hours (and quarters) on in those good old days of the past. Risk climbed into the back where the child safety booster seat had been generously provided, leaving Axel to sit up front beside their so-called pilot. "Okay! This is cool! Lookit all the lights! Er…how do I make it go?"

"Why do I even bother?" he muttered. "Demyx. MOVE!" With some difficulty Number VIII removed him from the controls and grabbed them himself. A single button was pressed and the generator revved to life.

"I could've done that…" Demyx moped as he righted himself in the appropriate seated position required for safety during take-off. Risk smiled at him and patted his should for comfort. They lifted off smoothly and several Dusks hurried over to the back wall where a switch was discreetly situated. As the ship hovered in wait, the hangar's ceiling parted to allow clear passage to the sky.

"Wow…" Number XIII awed, looking up at the wide blue yonder from her window. It was a little arduous to get a good view through the glass pane with the seatbelt and booster chair hindering her, but she eventually came to terms with it.

"Don't touch that," Axel warned when the Melodious Nocturne extended his finger curiously towards a mysterious glowing bulb. Demyx's hand shot back in haste and quite nearly hit himself in the nose. From then on he became wary of his surroundings, but more so of the pilot.

Risk watched the castle grow ever-distant as the ship sped through the cosmos and past countless little balls of light.

"Stars," Axel explained when she asked about them. "Haven't you seen 'em from the castle windows?"

"Uh-uh. Not like these ones. These ones look different." As a matter of fact, Number XIII never bothered looking at the sky from the castle windows. When she looked out, she looked down to the city below, wondering why it was so dark and who would want to live in such a place. What Risk was remembering were the planets' lights. That went back farther, to her Other's life, the real Risk, but she didn't know it. "Whoa! I had no idea the castle is so big!" she went on, catching sight of it in the rear-view mirror angling out oddly from the ship's roof. Demyx glanced back and concurred with a nod. A settling silence filled in for awhile, the engine's hum just discernible. Sighing in contentment, Risk observed two small comets in a similar line streak through the cosmos and disappear out of sight. Number IX sneezed.

"Kleenex?" the Flurry of Dancing Flames offered politely.

"Thanks." He blew his nose, making Risk jump from the unexpected sound, and then everyone settled again. "Are we there yet?"

"Er…what are you doing?" Axel asked as Demyx started rooting through the glove compartment. "Nothin'" was his answer, of course. After awhile he hastily took out his hands and seemed to hide something away in the folds of his cloak. "Not gonna ask," Axel told himself.

The Melodious Nocturne leaned back in his seat and let out a breath. Casting paranoid glances over at Number VIII beside him, he discreetly-or, rather, tried to be discreet-summoned his faithful sitar. Due to its size, however, it quite nearly clubbed his friend in the nose. Axel gave Demyx a warning look, but refrained from saying anything. Having close to the opposite reaction of him, Risk leaned forward as far as her seat belt would allow and listened delightedly as Demyx plucked out a few gentle tunes. It wasn't his best work, he'd have to admit, but it did the job of easing everyone's spirits.

"You know," he said after awhile, "I wrote a song for you, Axel buddy." Grinning, Demyx repositioned the sitar supported on his knee. "I call it 'Axel's Theme Song.' Wanna hear?"

"I do!" Number XIII called out with enthusiasm. Axel opened his mouth to strongly object to the idea he found offensive, but before the man could insert an argument he was drowned out by an overwhelming flood of sound.

"I WANNA LIGHT YOUR HEAD ON FIRE!

I WANNA LIGHT YOU HEAD ON FIRE!!

YEAH!!!"

**OOO**

For the remainder of the trip it had been agreed upon that Demyx would play no more sitar music and the Flurry of Dancing Flames wouldn't, as he put it, "wring his scrawny neck." Needless to say his song wasn't a big hit with the man; though Risk did start singing along during the second verse (it went the same as the first, obviously). When they finally reached their destination, it was pointed out quite subtly to her by the Melodious Nocturne. She peered forward, trying to get a good look from her less than advantageous perch, and Axel took them in quite skillfully. Number IX complemented him on this.

"Ah, it's nothing," he replied modestly, if a little proud. As Risk continued to squint at the brown, desert-like world, she observed its barrenness and lack of any clear sign of life, strangely enough. There was no great city, as the name would lead someone much like herself to believe. She pulled on Demyx's sleeve for his attention.

"So where's the city?"

"There." Axel indicated an enormous pile of rubble settled prominently on the world's eastern edge with a single gloved finger.

"Oh my…" Number XIII leaned back, coincidently almost hitting her poor head on the back of the child booster seat, eyes sympathetically wide with sorrow. The Melodious Nocturne watched her through the rear-view mirror and felt a tinge of that emotion rub off on him. Or was that just the memory?

"Remember what happened last time we came here?" he murmured to Axel.

"Shut up!" Number VIII hissed back. Distracted by Demyx, he didn't realize the sound of Risk's seat belt fly free until she accidentally elbowed him in the chest while jerking the steering mechanism. Taking her companions' shouts of confusion lightly as the ship practically barrel-rolled, Number XIII sighed after it regained balance. She went back to her designated seating and apologized meekly for bruising Mr. Axel's rib cage.

Number IX was silent in trying to figure out the previous events when a rather nasty-looking comet streaked by mere inches from the hull. It was already caught in Wind City's gravity and they watched as the planet's atmosphere incinerated it until it was but a Risk fist-sized ball. If they had very keen eyesight, the Organizers would've witnessed it bounced once when it met the ground below, then settle there as a tiny part of the landscape.

"…Geez."

"I'm…glad you saw that, Risk," Demyx said eventually.

"Well, I kind of didn't," she admitted. "It hit us, made the ship go flying down and then we crashed. You were crying," the child added sadly to Axel.

"Ahem. Great. So you reversed all that and saved our lives, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Ohhh, I get it! That makes sense," the Melodious Nocturne said, cheerful in his understanding.

"I'm just gonna land this thing."

Soon the trio was standing on the ancient soil of Wind City. Axel muttered out loud about what they were sent to do, shielding his eyes from the bright afternoon sun while making an attempt at spotting where Kingdom Hearts would be.

"Kingdom Hearts…fell…45 degree angle…or maybe 75…hrm…okay, it should be in that direction," he rationalized, waving a hand vaguely northwest. Demyx shared a brief look of uncertainty with Risk before following Number VIII in his oh-so-carefully laid-out navigation route. If you squinted just the right way, a barely discernible and almost as distant as a Dusk's voice shape marked a curve of the heart of all worlds. He pointed this out.

"Really? ....Nope, can't see it," the Melodious Nocturne deduced after several long moments of staring. Risk kept in between her two tall companions. That way Axel blocked the hot rays of the sun, making a pool of shade that she walked in, plus the security of Demyx right behind. But it wasn't long before Number XIII grew tired, taking two fast paces to each of Axel's strides (his legs, of course, were considerably longer than hers). She concentrated on counting how many individual strands of hair were spiking out from his cranium, but gave up around thirty-five. Then after she decided to make it her job to watch the eerie remnants of Wind City, which they were evidently giving a wide berth to as they walked around its collapsed outer wall. Being naïve and still unfamiliar to the vast, impressive universe she was now a part of, that mass of rubble was the most frightening thing Risk had ever laid eyes on. Aside, perhaps, from an irritated Larxene. It sent a shiver up her small spine to think about what could be living in there now--ghosts, Heartless, zombies, other dead things…

Risk grabbed the nearest hand she could find, which happened to be Axel's, and clung onto it. He looked down in surprise to the sudden movement, but let her stay there. They kept going for a great distance and, much to his dismay, Demyx lost sight of the gummi ship that would be taking them home. It would've been a big deal if Risk wasn't with them, for then Axel and himself could simply portal back. But she couldn't withstand a jump from world to world yet. No proper training on the subject.

"Uh, Axel? I can't see it anymore."

"What? Oh, we can follow our footprints back," he replied.

"Oh. Okay!" He quietly walked up next to Risk and stooped to whisper in her ear. "I counted to fifty-one. How far did you get?"

"Thirty-five," Number XIII whispered back. They grinned at each other.

"I don't even wanna know…" Axel told himself, overhearing numbers being spoken back and forth. It was then that he tripped on something and fell with a rather undignified "uh!" in the grainy dirt.

"Are you okay, Mr. Axel?" Risk asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, fine. Damn it, don't touch me!" he barked at Demyx. With a mocking flourish in his colleague's face, Number IX backed off and took up an innocent position next to Risk, eyes like a child's darting around the land in pretend interest. Grinding his teeth, Axel recovered and stood up tall, trying to regain his composure while brushing off the dust. He searched the ground for what made him trip. There, one end sticking straight out, the other partially buried, was a good-sized, durable gummi block.

"Of all the stupid-" He stopped. Coming to the realization currently escaping his partners, the Flurry of Dancing Flames slapped his forehead and bent to pick it up. Sick amusement played on his face and he let out a short, unhappy laugh. "Looks like we're done here." He tossed the block to Demyx, who caught it just barely and almost fumbled the thing.

"Huh?"

"_That_ was what all this crap was about. We're done, we found what we were looking for."

"But I still haven't found what I'm lookin' for," the Melodious Nocturne said in a sing-song manner, drawing out "still" and "found." They decided it best to ignore him.

"You mean, that little building block is what Lance Man saw fall here?" Risk asked, referring to Number III. "Some scavenger hunt that was," she said in a tone of childish sarcasm.

"That's lame," Demyx commented while looking the block over. "But look! It's yellow! Don't you like yellow, Axel?" he asked as Number VIII turned away.

On the walk back to the ship, following their previous footprints still prominently embedded in the soft ground, gummi block secured with Number IX for Xemnas's sake, Axel was kind enough to explain his theory of how this silly misunderstanding likely occurred. What he had in mind involved explosions and flames, but to sum it up, he basically deduced that some vessel or another collided with Kingdom Hearts.

"Like a fly to a bright light!" Risk suggested.

"Sure." They carried on across the mostly empty plains, Wind City bulking out to one side. Slowly the sky began to darken and the first handful of stars winked in overhead. Number XIII was carefully watching for their old trail. Maybe it was just her or because she no longer had hair to count, but the walk back felt much longer than the first.

"Um…we've kind of been walking for awhile," said Risk. An evening breeze, cool but not yet chill, stirred around them.

"We'll see it any minute now. I think," Demyx added with less certainty. The wind picked up in a sudden brief howl, as if in protest, then died down to an uneasy blow. The sky now completely indicated nighttime, millions-no, _billions_- of stars illuminating their way. One shone brighter than the rest and Risk pointed it out with curiosity.

"Oh, that's Pharr Major! She guides the way north-or at least that's what I've heard," the Melodious Nocturne said.

"How do you know?" Axel inquired suspiciously.

"I don't know, but…I think my world is somewhere around here."

"You have a WORLD?!" Number XIII exclaimed.

"Uh, my home world. My Other's home world…"

"Funny. It looks kind of familiar," Axel contemplated.

"Well, we can probably see it from the castle." Risk grabbed onto Number IX's cloak defensively when the uneasy blow turned into a horrible monster of a gale. "Is this why they call it Wind City?!" Demyx yelled over the roaring of the wind.

"I GUESS SO!"

The air storm only got worst as they pushed on. Risk was on the hem of Nine's fluttering coat the whole time. Eventually it got too strong for them and Demyx had to call his sitar and dig it into the earth just to keep from getting swept away with it. He saved Risk from her struggle soon after, taking her forearm and pulling the small girl between him and the sitar, which was holding up as valiantly as a trusted instrument could. Finally they remembered that Number VIII was out here, too, a little farther ahead and Demyx brought his head up with effort thanks to the everlasting gusts of wind. He was low to the ground, chakrams digging into the ground for stability.

"Are you okay, Axel?!" Demyx managed to shout at him.

"Grrrr…WHERE'S OUR DAMN SHIP?!" In answer to his question, a terrible thrashing sound, immediately followed by several successive crashes, burst out across the barren land. Apparently the forces of nature had taken pity on them in a strange way and it had produced their ship for the colleagues. Well, minus some unnecessary parts, including, among others, some engine bits here and there. Other than that, the only thing they had to worry about was righting the vehicle and getting the noticeable dent out of its nose.

"…Axel?"

"…What?"

"Did you forget to put it in park?"

"Ha ha, that's very funny. Stay right where you are, Nine. I'm going to come over there, and then I'm going to kill you."

"Ask a stupid question…" Risk chided.

* * *

_And thus did eight chapters become nine..._there ya go, my friendly neighbourhood, uh...people.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts or that line from U2's song (when Demyx went "But I still haven't found what I'm lookin' for" and Axel and Risk ignored him). But Risk is totally mine.


	10. Suspension without Suspense

**10. Suspension without Suspense**

"Ow! Geez!" With a little effort, the Flurry of Dancing Flames managed to give them all a small, cheery fire in the centre of their makeshift camp. Tending to his blaze resulted in setting his glove alight, but Axel was able to put it out by means of the sand covering the cave floor. Taking note of Axel's mistake, Risk carefully warmed her palms by the flames, hands stripped of her own gloves. Demyx watched them both wearily from a corner, back reclined against the rocky wall. His sitar was lying across his lap, one hand draped carelessly over it.

It was really quite fortunate that one thousand years ago the world shook with its own internal battle and heaved up rough, jagged mountains along a sort of crude diagonal belt, part of which ran through where their cave was. That was the nature of young planets across the cosmos, for it took billions of years before they took on their final, ancient forms. Over hundreds of years of the planet's violent wind storms, the mountains situated in the worst areas grew weak from all of it, eventually turning into great piles of dusty brownish rock that could be harvested for structures, which was exactly what happened when the old inhabitants of Wind City built a wall to protect them from the traitorous wind. A grave mistake, they'd soon realize, but some of the boulders were used to build quaint, circular-shaped caves for people unfortunate enough to be away from the city when an uneasy wind picked up. These rocks were somewhat stronger than those used in the peoples' previous endeavor, and they'd hold for another good century, or two with some luck.

"Are we going to die?" The question was both random and voiced innocently enough, but still troubling to hear from a child. Risk looked to Number VIII for an answer.

"We're Nobodies. We don't die." He fiddled with a strand of his red hair, separated from the other spikes from the wind they endured earlier. He'd have to fix that with a generous glop of hair gel when they got back to the castle. It was a delicate process…

"So…we're invincible?"

"Ah…no clue. But I…'died' once and-"

"Oh my gosh! What happened? Are you okay?" She inched closer and huddled by his knees. Axel regretted bringing that up.

"Long story, kid. Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Why not now, Mr. Axel? We've got time. Please?" Risk pleaded. He took one look at her wide, desperate-for-a-story eyes and sighed.

"Well, if I have to tell this, I'd have to explain a little something about Roxas. The one you, uh, replaced." They were interrupted by a low moan from Demyx. Axel gladly dropped the topic when Risk moved back to his side, frowning as he tried to shift his injured leg to a more comfortable position.

Not everything was apple pie and peach cobbler when Number XIII saw their break from the storm, a barely discernible little mound of rock through the windblown dust. Announced with a triumphant shout while seeking for anything that might help them out of that mess, Risk had pointed it out to her companions. Axel was lagging behind due to the complications of using chakrams half-buried in the ground to hold him up against the violent wind, so he told them to go on ahead, get themselves to safety. At Demyx's suggestion, Risk had climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes buried into the softness of his cloak. That was the reason she hadn't seen what happened until the horrible sound of the Melodious Nocturne's painful cry rang in her ears and there was an awkward shift in his weight. Luckily for him, they were almost to the mouth of the cave, so he managed to get them there relying on his one uninjured leg and sitar. He refused to let Risk look at it, brushing her away whenever she got too close.

When Axel had finally reached them, exhausted from his battle with the storm and his stubborn chakrams, he said he saw the whole accident. By then Risk was sobbing, begging for Demyx to let him, at least, make sure he was going to be all right. Despite Nine's reassurances and Axel's repeated explanations that he was "no doctor," she wouldn't stop crying until it was done. From what Number VIII could tell based on his limited medical knowledge, he'd broken his leg--maybe a fracture, maybe something more serious. Doctoring done, Axel had gone on to explain that from what he saw, Demyx's bone snapped from the combined pressure of the wind and Risk piggybacking, though that small tidbit of information was kept away from her.

"Seriously though, Demyx, you need more calcium in your diet." The light-hearted joke had flown right over their somber heads.

He gave a little yelp.

"Does it hurt?" Risk asked for perhaps the sixth time. "It hurts a lot, doesn't it?"

"I'll be okay. Really."

"No one can die from a broken leg," Axel said, finding the true meaning of her earlier question.

"Think the fire's helping? I can move you closer, if you want," she offered. Demyx sincerely doubted that, though a nice gesture.

"No, that's okay." His voice came weak despite his great effort to hide that and stay strong around Risk. The constant pain pulsing through made that a bit of a challenge, however, and drained all his strength. Number XIII could tell.

"How are we gonna get home?" she wanted to know after a long silence. The girl drew her knees close and rocked herself, brow furrowed with concern "I don't like it here," Risk added into her Organization cloak.

"They'll send another gummi ship to pick us up when we don't come back. Eventually," the Flurry of Dancing Flames explained. "Of course, I could pop back and tell the Superior myself. That'll speed things up a bit." Thirteen didn't react to the proposition, but Demyx's eyes widened and he shook his head. Axel gave him a look but said nothing more on the subject.

Hours passed there in the cave with little conversation. About every ten minutes or so, Risk made some comment on Demyx's wellbeing or otherwise fussed over the injury. Several times Axel scratched something in the sand only to rub it out again seconds later and give a forlorn sigh. Purely for the amusement of the child with them, Number IX fished out a pad of paper he found in their ship's glove compartment from his person and started making an assortment of crafts. Airplanes, which were tried by Risk on the wind outside only to be snatched up and destroyed, much to their dismay, then hats and boats (you have to make a hat to turn it into a boat, he explained to Risk) before moving on to more complicated paper objects. She was quite taken with this undiscovered form of art and watched with profound interest as the Melodious Nocturne finished a tiny paper bird.

"Wow! That's so…wow!" She leaned forward to get a better look. Number VIII also had to admit that he was impressed by his colleague's hidden talent.

"Huh. Not bad, Nine. I didn't know you could make origami like that," he commented.

"Eh, it's just something I picked up a while ago. It's easy, really." Demyx rubbed the back of his neck modestly with his free hand, then cringed when he subconsciously tried to cross his legs, a troubling habit to have when one is fractured.

"Can you teach me sometime?" Risk asked.

"Sure."

After their enthusiasms had died down and Demyx put the little bird in his pocket to display with the others in his room when they got back to the castle, Risk shifted so that she had an unobstructed view of the world outside. Dirt and various other debris still blew around wildly by the ruthless gale. Night had settled in, the harsh darkness only eased by faint starlight and their own fire. It crackled as if it was another being keeping company with the trio of Nobodies, sending tiny embers from its heart. It was an almost cheerful setting. Risk nestled herself closer to Demyx, leaning her head against his arm.

"Demyx?" she murmured, watching the fire dance and cast its jumping light around the confines of their cave.

"Yeah?"

"I can't wait for the future."

"Huh?" He never got an answer. Number XIII had fallen asleep next to him a beat later.

It wasn't until the arrival of a new dawn that the gale ended, giving up to a cool morning breeze as the unreal closeness of the world's burning bright globe dominated the horizon. Axel was the only one awake to see its orange brilliance, not that something as trivial as a rising sun affected him. Idly he wished that there was coffee, rubbing a hand down from his temple to fall from his face in an exaggerated manner. He regarded Demyx and Risk in their slumber, seeming peaceful. She was propped up against the Melodious Nocturne's side like an oversized doll dressed in black robes, an arm thrown across his middle to make sure he stayed there. It rose and fell with Demyx's breathing, mouth slightly ajar for the function, nostrils flaring with every inhale. Axel found this somewhat disturbing, but who was he to judge.

Number VIII stretched and got up from the sandy ground, taking care to mind the cave's low ceiling. Once clear of its entrance, he straightened and ran a hand through his hair coolly, taking note of the large collection of rocks called Wind City set in the distance. Much closer, a tiny glint of something half-buried in the soil drew his attention. Axel stooped to pick it up, for upon further investigation he realized with pleasure that it was the five munny he dropped last night. Brushing aside some of the eroded land, a second blackish object caught his eye. He unearthed it, clueless as to what it could be, and pulled the strangely-shaped thing out of the ground. For several moments he studied it, confused at how familiar it seemed but without an idea of its origin. Then he remembered where he'd seen it, mere hours before, actually, and huffed at the irony. The black chrome could come from only one place, after all. It was the pilot's seat cup holder off their destroyed vessel..

Pitching the thing, Axel stood again with a sigh and turned back to the cave opening. He watched the shadow he cast across the golden earth, taking leisurely strides and enjoying the soft scrunch of his boots in the sand. A strange humming filled his ears a moment later, but Eight thought nothing of it. He extended a hand to the stone as he reached their shelter. A silhouette enshrouded his and the rock suddenly, the humming noise growing louder. Making a face, Axel finally stopped and looked behind to see what it belonged to. There, steadily descending from the sky and blocking the sun's warm rays in the process, was their rescue. It was enormous considering the average size of a gummi ship, easily doubling the size of the one that brought them here. The landing, however, was quite soft, indicating that whoever was behind the wheel of the vessel had great skill in their field, almost enough to make it artful.

Axel continued his silent observation, arms crossed over his chest, unimpeded by the gentle pattering made upon Risk's approach.

"What's going on?" she asked, stifling a yawn and rubbing her eyes one at a time, attention drawn to the largish vehicle parked a few feet from the cave.

"Looks like plot," was his answer.

"Oh." They stood together and concentrated on the ship as several more minutes ticked by. The back door lowered and thudded dully on the ground, then at last the driver's tinted window came down, too, a familiar voice calling out to them.

"GET IN, IDIOTS!" Risk gazed up at Number VIII for his reaction. His eyebrows were raised in vague surprise, but he also though _I should've known_ as their escort gritted their teeth in annoyance. He seemed at least a little pleased, though, so Risk decided that she was too and gave a little wave of friendship.

With a little assistance from Axel, Number IX was laid down in the back across several seats, broken leg elevated for comfort, with Risk for company during the trip. As they launched past the cloudless blue sky and into unpredictable stretches of space, Axel, put up front next to the pilot, chanced a look back at the planet's surface. The ruins kept growing distant and so he allowed himself to relax a bit. The upcoming voyage gave him time to contemplate the irony overlooked in their hasty departure, urged on by their discomfort with the world and, of course, the impatient pilot. Beside to the Flurry of Dancing Flames was the one person he'd least expect to want to be flying through space at about ninety light-years an hour—speeding, of course.

"So anyone care to fill me in on what the hell happened?" Larxene asked casually, breaking the silence. She cast a distasteful look at the injured Organizer through her rear-view mirror. Number XIII glanced up at both of them before returning her full consciousness to Demyx.

"You care?" She shrugged.

"Oh, just curious, darling, to know why you didn't, I dunno…USE A FRICKIN' PORTAL!"

"Risk can't handle a big jump like that yet," Axel defended, much to the surprise of everyone aboard the ship

"So?"

"So?! And what about _him_?!" Eight yelled, sticking a thumb at the Melodious Nocturne. He groaned at the notion of being brought into this.

"YOU DRAG HIM THROUGH! Survival of the fittest, fire-hole!" she snarled. They simultaneously turned away from each other and their argument. Still, Axel had to have the last word, a mumble only she could hear.

"You wouldn't have survived."

The ship carrying them across the black backdrop of space continued on its course. Next stop: The Castle That Never Was.

* * *

...That took longer than I anticipated, but oh well. Don't worry, it'll all be explained in good time, my friends.

Great thanks are do to my generous reviewers. I thank you all, thank you, thank you.

Kingdom Hearts: Don't own it.


	11. Little Unwelcome Questions

Sorry for the wait. How long has it been? Not a whole month? Oh man, I think it has been. Anyhow, here it is. Geez, I had to go over this so many times before I was finally pleased with it. I think it'll do to set us up for somethin' good.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any candy brands mentioned. Risk is my character, though, but you should know that already if you've read this far...

But I do appreciate it since you have! Thank you very much.

* * *

**11. Little Unwelcome Questions**

She would have been better off keeping company with Demyx. He needed it. Instead she was victim to orange eyes. Did she do something bad? That blue-haired man had pulled her away from her companions in the gummi hangar when Axel's back was turned. Maybe she just had to apologize to the Superior for whatever it was she'd done wrong, but Risk found her mouth glued shut in his presence. She rubbed her hands together like they were cold and kept her gaze on the white floor, away from his. It felt like forever until he at last spoke, low yet clear as ice.

"Are you afraid?" She couldn't stop herself from flinching as if he'd gone to strike her. Hesitant, still refusing to look him in the eye, Risk nodded. "Good." More silence. Stone still, Xemnas observed her fidget in the small black office chair across from his desk. "I was informed that Number IX has been injured," he said, almost casual.

"…Y-Yes," Risk brought herself to say. "His leg is broken."

"Indeed. A pity. Do you know how it happened?" The girl shivered. Despite his quiet attempt at a gentle tone, this man was by far emptier than any other Nobody she'd ever met. Not even the pathetic little Creepers, too slow and worthless to be of any real value in their continuous search for hearts, were this cold. Risk couldn't help but wonder what made him this way.

"No. I didn't see." It was the truth, and that was the best she could give.

"No?" Xemnas repeated, sounding unconvinced.

"Yes, that's what I said," Thirteen elaborated. He gave her a long, hard look before leaning back in his chair. For the first time she glanced cautiously up at her superior, giving a faint, unsure smile in return.

She turned away again quickly and caught sight of what she hadn't noticed before. A grey metal filing cabinet, tucked into the corner, inconspicuous when the whole room was taken into account, yet a curious monument all its own. A monument to what, she couldn't tell. Regardless, it seemed important. Risk thought about asking of its purpose, then remembered who she was dealing with and remained silent. Perhaps some other time.

"Your mission, then. Did you manage to complete it?" Xemnas sighed as the girl let out a confused little "um." Dealing with children was harder than coping with Demyx's general state of forgetfulness, he realized. Of course, the Melodious Nocturne did spend a lot of time around her. That could be the problem. "The unidentified object. Did you find it?"

"Oh! That! Yeah!" she exclaimed, clueing in. "Kind of funny, though, sending us out to find something and no one knows what it is…er…" Seeing Xemnas's serious frown again, she bowed her head and reached into her pocket for the gummi block. On their way back to the castle, Demyx had handed it over to her. Given the circumstances, it wouldn't have done much good with him. She found it, plucked off a piece of black lint and set it on the Superior's desk with a faint _click_. With grace to be envied, he picked it up, holding it between thumb and index finger, and examined the object for a full minute as Number XIII watched, waiting for his reaction.

There wasn't one.

**OOO**

Axel raised a thin red eyebrow at Larxene, attention drawn away from last year's April issue of "GamePro." Thinking back to the time he'd gotten put up here in an unfortunate accident involving Risk and a knife, she'd never ventured into the infirmary without her arm practically hanging out of its socket or unconscious from a head wound. He watched her eyes quickly scan the small white room, then returned to staring at him, sitting cross-legged on the first of a row of cots stretching from there to the back.

"Hello," he said to the woman standing in the doorway, arms folded and glaring at him like a cat would a mouse. He was used to this and took it in stride. After all, it was simply Larxene's affectionate way to greet him without words. "What brings you here?"

"Where's Nine?" she demanded, ignoring his question.

"They're doing his cast," Axel replied, closing the magazine and tossing it onto the pillow beside him. Number XII looked once again around the room, gaze settling for a moment on the white curtain drawn to separating Demyx's bed at the back from the rest of the room. For privacy, it seemed, plus the Sorcerers didn't like distractions while they worked. Two of the underlings, silhouetted against the curtain, and Nine's mullet meshed with the bed proved that Axel was right. He gave Larxene a wry smile and opened his mouth to offer a comment he knew she wouldn't like, but went silent as she crossed the short distance between them and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Er," he sputtered instead, surprised at her actions. Larxene's sharp eyes held his, a concentrated frown telling him to shut up and listen. Both gave a cautious glance to the opposite end of the infirmary, where a shadow slowly drifted across the curtain and the Nobody became visible to fetch a medical instrument. One could question the use of a heavy syringe with a nine-inch-long needle in setting and casting a broken leg, but no one cared to argue with Sorcerers. Disappearing behind the curtain again, they heard Demyx's whimper and turned back to each other.

"There's something I need to talk to you about. Will you listen?" Larxene whispered, sounding odd since she wasn't hissing it. Cryptic words, but as usual she had on a poker face, no sign of what she wanted to say showing through.

"You sure I'm the right guy?"

"Oh no, you're right, maybe I should talk to Saix," she said, rolling her eyes to punctuate the sarcasm. "Yes, you, you dip-" Demyx's yelping cry cut off Larxene's final word, but Axel had a feeling it shouldn't be heard anyway.

"Ouch, Larxy. You didn't have to say it like that." Number VIII watched her stare at the curtain again, which was probably just a way to avoid looking at him. This wasn't the Savage Nymph he knew. Reluctant and secretive, checking for unwanted visitors in their conversation, completely serious. "Are you okay? Is something bothering you?" She chewed her bottom lip in response. Axel took that as a yes. "Hey, if it'll help, I'll shut up. I don't need to keep talking…unlike you…" The reaction was immediate.

"Listen, fire-hole," she shot back, jabbing a finger into his chest and sending angry pulses of electricity through his body. That was more like it. He flashed a smile. It didn't really hurt. On the contrary, it felt pretty good to him. "If you had any idea what-"

She stopped abruptly, withdrawing her finger and getting to her feet. Disappointed, Axel followed Twelve's glare to the curtain, which was being pulled back to reveal the Melodious Nocturne with his new cast, fast asleep under the influence of painkillers. Proud of a job well done, the Sorcerers floated past the beds and their two superiors to the door. It closed with the faintest of sounds, leaving Larxene and Axel alone once more. Casting a long final look back at him, Larxene summoned a portal and put one leg through.

"You better watch yourself, Eight," she said over her shoulder.

"What for?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Doesn't matter. For you, at least." There was a pause as she turned back to the dark corridor awaiting her passage. "Just…don't be an idiot. Demyx can't do it alone." Then she was gone, vanishing along with the portal.

"Okay, we'll talk later!" Axel called, though Larxene was already gone. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Everyone's losing it but me and you, huh pal?" he said, turning to see Demyx slumbering across the room. His arm dropped off the bed and hung limp an inch from the floor.

**OOO**

If Risk had one wish, it would be to disappear with Axel and Demyx from the castle forever, because as much as she loved it and knew it as home, this man would always be there, looking down on the rest of them. But of course she didn't have a magic lamp to grant her deepest desire, or even some pennies to toss into the fountain in the courtyard and hope. Shooting stars were hard to come by in the World That Never Was (getting up on the roof was a hassle, anyway) and Risk suspected no one would be willing to design a pair of sparkly red shoes for her to click together, however nicely she asked. Life is tough and learn that, she would. But until then, Risk would keep her eye out for four-leaf clovers.

Finally Xemnas put down the gummi block and folded his arms on the desk atop some unimportant papers. He didn't get a chance for discussion, however, because a series of distracting, odd noises started outside in the hallway. At first they were soft, then began to grow progressively louder; and stopped altogether again. Risk and the Superior blinked at each other as they listened closely to the voices, hushed by the walls separating them. Thirteen managed to pick up some of the conversation.

"…busy at the moment."

"Whatever. Get out of the way or…tear down these damned walls!"

"…talk to ME like that!"

"I'll rip off your-!"

"Treason! Treason!" Xemnas rose and hurriedly opened the door, which was something in itself as he never hurriedly did anything, when yelling and cursing ensued. He glared at Saix and Larxene, who glared back and made a discreet little move to hide her kunai from his vision.

"What's going on out here?" he demanded. The Luna Diviner straightened, a mad glint in his eye, and started to give his testimony but was cut off by Larxene.

"It's about time we had a little talk, Superior." Neglecting to wait for his approval, she passed Xemnas and entered his office. Seeing Risk sitting there, she raised an eyebrow. Terrified of the older woman, Risk stood up and looked at Number XII like a squirrel debating whether to flee or play dead. "Out," she ordered, thumbing at the open door. Run it was, then.

Risk hadn't taken two steps before Saix reappeared, blocking the doorway and practically snarling with aggression. She back stepped quickly, bumping into the Superior's desk as a result. Something fell off and thumped to the floor by her feet, though none of the adults seemed to notice since they were all busy arguing at the moment.

"You don't want to mess with me, Seven, I'm telling you."

"Oh, is that so?!"

"SAIX! I demand you put that away!"

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you, pretty-boy." Number XIII was just about caught in the flurry of electricity when she straightened, Xemnas's book gripped tightly in front of her face as a shield.

"One more move from either of you and you'll both be Dusks for a month!" he thundered over Seven's enraged roars. Fearing for her young nonexistence as Xemnas began started using force to settle Larxene and Saix's outburst, Risk plugged her nose with one hand and prayed as she let darkness engulf her.

Subsequent to the initial rush, she felt just fine with this mode of travel, though the child realized too late that she'd neglected to think of a precise destination. "Outta here" wasn't exactly a road map. So it was with a mix of thoughts, the majority of which hoping she'd end up somewhere in the castle still and not on another world altogether, that Risk opened her eyes.

"I see your gummy worms and raise you an Oreo."

"Oh yeah? Well, check it out. Kit Kat."

"You're bluffing," Marluxia announced.

"Maybe I am."

"Stay in," the Cloaked Schemer urged from behind his lexicon.

"What do you know, bookworm? You're not even playing!" Luxord exclaimed.

"All right, boys, calm down," Number II said. Risk sighed with relief. There was no doubt about it; this was the castle kitchen. A group of Organizers were playing poker there today with an assortment of food items, mostly of the sugar sort. "So who's in?"

"I fold," the Silent Hero rumbled as Number XIII climbed onto the empty chair across from Zexion. His gloved hand came out, grabbed a handful of pretzels and disappeared behind his book again.

"Do you EVER stay in, Lexaeus?"

"C'mon, Six, we're using those to play!" Luxord moaned.

"I pick my battles," he stated in response to the Freeshooter's question.

She watched with mild interest as the remaining players showed their cards. Luxord grinned at the others' faces when they saw his prime hand.

"Terribly sorry, gentlemen," the Gambler of Fate said, thickening his accent, "but luck is on my side."

"You've got some good cards, Ten, I'll give you that," Xigbar admitted. With a flourish he laid down his own cards, making Luxord grit his teeth. "But nothing beats aces." Marluxia sighed, slapping down his useless collection of fives and Jacks, pushing back his chair with a scrape against the kitchen tile.

"Now that I've lost all the Skittles, it's about time I return to my begonias," he said. After receiving stares from many of his colleagues, the Graceful Assassin ambled through a portal. Some stray petals lingered in the air following his disappearance; several landing in Number V's hair and making him growl annoyance. Soon everyone agreed to call it a game and Luxord gathered up his cards, humming some sort of Broadway tune as he did so. Now was as good a time as any to investigate that book, Number XIII thought. She lifted the mysterious leather-bound volume from her lap and placed it on the table, careful not to disturb her fellow Organizers. It appeared they didn't care, so she continued her inspection. The cover had no title, as one would expect on a book, but it did have a unique mix of new smell and worn bindings. Risk ran her hand over it, feeling the smoothness beneath her glove. Zexion watched silently, knowing, somehow, that the book she'd found wasn't supposed to be here. There must've been a reason he'd never seen it before, and he could recall any book he'd ever read, this one in particular given its distinct look.

There was something wrong here. He could smell it.

* * *

Phew! I think I'm coming down with something. My throat feels like crap.

Anyway, I love reviews. Suggestions, corrections, pointing out some obvious error that I should've caught but didn't because I neglected to take the "two day break and then read it again" strategy...really, it'll help. Somehow, it'll help, I just know it. Maybe even six years from now, advice that might've thrown me off will help me. ...Yeah.


	12. Disappear

**12. Disappear**

Number XIII opened the book, gaze settling on the first page. Her eyes moved over a block of stylized text, the kind of tell-tale writing that made it clear to the reader of the author's careful, laborious work in writing the book by hand. It was perhaps the most beautiful handwriting ever preserved. But the meaning of the words recorded there were far from beautiful. A sad muttering escaped her lips before she could contain it. The surrounding Organizers glanced over at her, regarding the girl with steady looks as she slammed the cover shut and wriggled out of her seat. Grabbing the book in a hurry, she bounced on her heels and murmured something to herself for courage before sticking out a hand and summoning a dark corridor. Volume tucked safely under her arm, Risk started towards it with a determined expression.

"Hey, kid, where are you going?" Luxord called in fun from his spot at the kitchen table. Whatever her reply was lost to the darkness. The portal folded in and disappeared with the girl. "Weird kid," Ten muttered, returning his attention to the deck of cards he'd been shuffling. The Cloaked Schemer stiffened, looking suddenly alert.

"Zexion," Number V addressed. "What's the problem?" He sighed. Count it on Lexaeus to pick up on these slight changes.

"Someone…the child…I can no longer feel her presence." Zexion bowed his head in concentration and let his eyes drift shut. "She is not in the castle."

**OOO**

Growling fiercely as he paced in front of the Superior's door, Saix squeezed his hands into tight fists behind his back to restrain himself from pulling his claymore and just having a go at the walls. He and the Savage Nymph never got along, and that wasn't a secret. It was ridiculous, seeing as his position demanded respected from someone so low on the totem pole. But she was Larxene. She used to be the only female in the Organization, and even now is still the only mature woman, though the Luna Diviner would argue otherwise. None of the chain of command rules applied to _her_.

He cursed and stomped his foot.

"Well, you're in a good mood, as always." Saix turned to see another of his favourite Nobodies emerging from a portal. "What, did Xemnas take away one of your gold stars?" Axel smirked at his glower.

"The Superior doesn't have time for you and you're…you're…nonsense!" he sputtered through clenched teeth. Number VIII's eyes slid sideways, showing his complete lack of interest.

"Yeah. I'm real offended you think of me that way. It hurts." He sniffled convincingly and walked around to Saix's other side, the cold stare of the Luna Diviner following. "But I'm just here to see Risk. Demyx keeps asking when she'll come and hang out with us. I'd ask you, but I can see you're 'busy.'"

"Number XIII isn't in there. She left awhile ago," he explained patiently, having regained his usual calmness. Axel raised his eyebrows.

"Really? Well, if she isn't in there then who…" It was Saix's turn to smirk. From Eight's expression, he could tell this could lead to some harsh circumstances. How terrible for them.

"Larxene is speaking with the Superior." The statement had been obvious to Axel, but Number VII said it more to hear the words himself.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed past Saix, ignoring the grunt of protest, and pressed one ear against the white wood of the Superior's office door. It appeared downright ridiculous for him to do so, but he didn't care. The Luna Diviner shook his head at the juvenile display that was being put on before him.

"Number VIII," he began with a sigh.

"Shhh!" Axel hissed back, waving a hand at him to be quiet. "I can't hear anything." He frowned and leaned into the door more, listening intently for a trace of sound from the room beyond. Saix folded his arms and continued glaring disapproval at Eight's back. This was certainly something else, for he'd seen a great many stupid things done during his nonexistence, but this…as an individual act, this took the cake. How thick were the walls again? Three, four inches? It would be fitting for him to turn away from the spectacle and never speak of it again, but also just as fitting to take a picture. Yet still he watched without action, and finally, perhaps because the natural curiosity present in his memory from the days long past as a being able to feel, he gave in.

"Bleeding hearts of the World unite," Saix muttered soullessly before joining Axel at the closed door.

"Hear that?" his colleague whispered.

"Yes…yes, I think I do, actually. What is it?" The sound they heard was low and subtle, some kind of grating noise that was surely familiar yet not distinct enough to classify.

Number VII didn't have much time to contemplate what the sound could've been, for a moment later the door they were pressed against opened and Saix nearly feel forward. The Superior frowned down at him in confusion, Larxene maintaining her somber face from their meeting a whole two seconds before cracking a humourous grin. Her hand went up to cover it, but that sadistic brightness in her eyes and the fact that she was shaking made her contained laughter apparent.

"Saix…what are you doing?"

"Er, um…I-I…uh…" he stuttered to Xemnas's polished black boots. "He started it!" The sudden defensive exclamation seemed rather unnecessary to all of them, including Saix. He straightened and pointed an accusing finger to his left, which only made him seem more out of it since the Flurry of Dancing Flames had moved from the spot Seven indicated before the Superior caught him eavesdropping too. Now Axel stood a good distance behind and more to his right, managing a concerned look for Saix while twirling his finger at his temple for the benefit of the Savage Nymph and Xemnas.

"Well, this has been amusing," Larxene commented, having had a good laugh. She slipped past Xemnas and out into the hall with the others. Number VII scowled at her but decided the best course of action at this point was to remain silent. "Now if you'll excuse me…" The Superior glanced at her and frowned once more while considering the request. Finally he waved a hand for them to go. There were already far too many things he had to attend to today and they'd been delayed long enough. Getting these ungrateful Organizers out of his hair would do well to speed matters up.

"Very well, I don't see why not." He nodded to the Luna Diviner. "You too, Seven. Some sustenance would…ah, serve your mind well. You've been on your feet too long, I think." He opened his mouth as if to argue, then seemed to regain himself and shut it tight. Stiffly, Saix titled his head to the Superior and shuffled off down the hallway, giving a good final glare over his shoulder at Larxene when he thought the others were no longer watching. Axel also started to depart, seeing as the show had ended, and choosing instead a dark corridor for his transportation needs. He paused in front of it, reconsidering, then stepped aside and indicated the portal with a flourish. Ever the gentleman, Eight bowed courteously to Larxene.

"After you," he said. She gave him a suspicious look, but took advantage of the offer.

After they'd gone, Xemnas turned on his heel and went back to the daunting task that came with being his own secretary in an organization comprised of, when it came to keeping records, useless imbeciles. These men and women were fighters, scientists and skilled assassins sharing a single desperate goal. Which, it was worth noting, was one of the few reasons certain members weren't lashing each other's heads from their shoulders. They were dangerous, uncaring, hostile beings quite capable of changing their minds on who should play leader in their game. They were not pencil-pushers.

Settling in behind his desk, the Superior pulled a random sheet of paper from the mess of documents almost spilling over the very oaken edge. Scanning the page, he felt around for his pencil. It took several moments for him to realize that there _was_ no pencil atop or buried under the assorted papers. Joyous of joys, he'd lost another one, and at the finest of times to do it as well. Grumbling, he leaned over the seat's armrest and struggled to pull open the drawer built into his desk. Finding no spare writing instruments, Xemnas cursed and slammed it shut. This was really too much. An entire castle occupied by twelve others plus countless inferior Nobodies at his disposal, and yet no one had the sense to go out and purchase such simple things. Oh, yes, they were all too eager to leave the World That Never Was for food and various other supplies of limited use, but when the true necessities wore thin there was just no _motivation_. Dropping his face into his gloved hands, the Superior sighed meaningfully and considered how much work it would take to replace the ranks of Organization XIII with competent beings.

But of course there had to be a pen or pencil somewhere in his castle. A feather quill and ink well, even. The library seemed to be a sensible place to check, so with that in mind darkness enveloped the Superior and he was quickly turned out again on the lower floor. It was second nature now, seeing as he and the dark had a little deal. He obeyed it when necessary and it complied to him. Simple and efficient. If only some of the other Organizers would learn that. Xemnas knew for a fact that Number IX still got lost in them from time to time, even though navigation, he found, was elementary. And the Freeshooter often complained that his shadow would "flicker" after world jumps. Mostly everyone he told brushed it off as his imagination, but the Superior knew from experience that it was a result of the Dark Realm rejecting Xigbar due to lack of commitment to its powerful depths. Now, as for that pencil Xemnas was seeking…

His memory served well. Though it had been awhile since last he'd visited the castle library, the Superior recalled with accuracy a small table near the elevator stacked with book and also, in a cheap-looking wire cylinder (who in their right mind would buy that piece of junk, he hadn't the foggiest), were several long, sharp pencils. Just as he remembered. Xemnas took one of them, the sleek body feeling pleasant in his fingers. Then, thinking ahead, decided an extra wouldn't hurt. In fact, three would be even better. Then in case the first got misplaced and the second broke, another was readily available. However, if that last one was faulty, he'd have to come back down here again. That wasn't something Xemnas was too keen on. So of course it was when the Superior began gathering all the pencils that the nearby elevator doors slid open and through them walked Number X.

"Say, what are you up to, Superior?" he asked. Xemnas paused, considering how he must look right now, then straightened and met Luxord's gaze smoothly.

"Greetings, Ten. I've seemed to misplace my pencil and I remembered there were some here."

"SEEMED to, sir, or DID?"

"…All right, I did. I lost my pencil," he replied irritably. When Luxord smiled, clearly pleased from the Superior's answer, and said nothing more, he took the opportunity to change the subject. "And what brings you here?"

"Me? Oh, Zexion asked for Xigbar and me to search the upper castle for the kid. Y'know, because he can't smell her…or something like that."  
"…What?"

"Yeah, she went through a portal and-"

"What?!"

"Oh, you weren't informed? Wait…then maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you that," he murmured thoughtfully. "But that book she ran off with-"

"WHAT?!" Xemnas exploded. "Where's Six?" he demanded.

"I think he headed for Vexen's lab. But Superior-"

"What _now_?!"

"You didn't hear it from me. And I must say-"

"Say _what_?!"

"Interrupting someone…poor decorum, sir," the Gambler of Fate put in.

"Yes, yes," the Superior said impatiently, heading through a portal. "That's just the thing, Number X. You're not someone. You're no one."

Luxord was left to digest those final words as the last wisps of darkness from Xemnas's departure disappeared.

"It's also rude to notice, " he mumbled to no one in particular before turning and pushing the "up" button for the elevator.

* * *

And there we have it.

Reviews make me a happy Moogle :D


	13. What It's Worth

**13. What It's Worth**

"But…WHY?" Vexen demanded. The Cloaked Schemer simply shook his head again, brushing off the older man. Of course he would be a fool to deny them, seeing as Zexion was followed by his body guard Lexaeus. Sullen as ever, he stared at Number IV in that patient, daunting way he commanded until his fellow scientist moved aside and gestured for them to enter his laboratory. As they made their way to the back of the cold, damp, dungeon-mimicking room their colleague favoured, Vexen pushed an open wooden crate labeled "Cure for Common Cold" in crude black letters into a nearby storage closet with his foot. He allowed himself a small relieved sigh since it spared their notice and shut the tall closet door firmly before joining them.

As he'd insisted on doing, Zexion was making good use of the Chilly Academic's old computer terminal, an X-51 model that happened to have been retired from Hollow Bastion manufacturers since the 1980s. It was a dinosaur of a machine, to say the least, prone to overheating and catching flame, hence the fire extinguisher hanging close by. How his colleague got a hold of this primitive hardware, he could only speculate, but there were things stored on it—secret information, if you like. Some files in it the Superior would doubtlessly have someone's head for, not that Vexen knew any of this existed within the computer's data banks. Oblivious to it all, he tended to use it only for a back-up to pen and ink for storing the outcomes of his various pointless experiments. But what really begged concern happened to be, if Number VI had guessed right, in the hands of their youngest member. The book; untitled, the author an outright enigma, that book was the original source of what was buried in Vexen's computer. Everything that occurred in Wind City years ago had been recorded on those pages somehow, and then transferred into the terminal even more curiously. Zexion hadn't a clue when and how all this happened. Regardless, he wanted to be certain Risk had actually come to possess this book. The glimpse he'd caught of the first page would be enough to prove it either way; the writing was quite unique…if only he could find the right files.

He'd naturally been conscious of Four's approach, though it wasn't until he spoke up that Zexion turned and acknowledged him.

"Hold on a moment! Don't you need me to input the password?" The trio of Nobodies took a collective look at the dusty computer screen.

"No," Number VI said after the moment had passed. He returned his attention to the computer and pressed a few keys to open a random file, only to have his concentration broken again. Disgruntled, Vexen moved to his other side, away from where Five stood watching silently.

"But…it asked for a password, didn't it?"

"Yes," he answered, showing no outward sign of impatience.

"Then how are you rummaging through all my private files?!" Vexen exclaimed, hopping once and waving his arms about in a rather delirious manner. Lexaeus eyed him with a disapproving frown. Catching it, the Chilly Academic regained his poise so that the Cloaked Schemer could answer knowing he wouldn't be whacked by his colleague's flailing arms.

"I happened to recall an old joke from our days as apprentices…and Lexaeus also helped to jog my memory on a possible password you may have used." Seeing where this could-and probably would-lead, Four straightened and tried to brush the matter off.

"Yes, well…all right, you figured out the code. Bravo, my friend. No need to repeat-"

"Vanilla Ice…original enough," Number V commented in mock thoughtfulness, the trace of a smirk showing just slightly on that serious face of his. Vexen folded his arms and replied with an indignant "humph."

Satisfied with the silence that settled in thereafter, Zexion was able to refocus his thoughts on the task that was proving trickier than he'd anticipated. A good three quarters of the secret files he'd somehow gained entry to just by messing around a little were encrypted in ways he'd never seen before, and apparently neither had Number IV, rending his attempted assistance quite useless. The rest, which were the most important, appeared strictly inaccessible. This, of course, was by no means coincidence. Admitting defeat from the veteran machine, Six made a hopeless gesture with his hands.

"I can't open the files," he announced. Lexaeus tilted his head, digesting this turn of events, then looked respectfully at his old friend.

"May I?" he asked, indicating the computer console.

"You? May YOU?! A thick, pig-headed…" Vexen began to scoff, then fell silent once his senses returned. This, he seemed to remember now, was a man known for smashing another into the ceiling with a blow from his tomahawk on account of being mocked. The Silent Hero shot a warning look at Number IV, who cleared his throat uncomfortably, then moved to the computer console as Zexion stepped away. He studied the various keys that made up the panel before punching a few in sequence with his forefingers, seeming to sort of know what he was doing. Contradictory to his confident actions, however, an error message appeared onscreen accompanied by a hideous _DONG_-ing sound. Once Lexaeus managed to clear it, which took more effort than one would think, he tried again. Of course the same thing happened and Vexen, who dared to snicker, was given another rather nasty glare. Now muttering quiet curses at the ridiculous old thing, he decided that a bit of force would work best against it and started banging rather violently on the console.

"Wait!" the Cloaked Schemer exclaimed all of a sudden, drowning out Vexen's pained wail for his computer.

"Yes, indeed! Please, Five, desist from that horrid act of violence!" he cried in an almost passionate way. "The warranty expired eleven years ago."

"I think that's it-you opened the file," Zexion continued, waving a triumphant hand at the screen. "Lexaeus, you're a genius."

"My pleasure, Zexion."

"Really, you have my sincere thanks."

"Glad I could help."

"If you two are quite done," the Chilly Academic interjected, frowning at his colleagues.

"Oh…yes. Of course," Zexion mumbled.

They watched in silence while he went over the information displayed by the computer that Number V had broken into by accident. After several long minutes, he voiced their fears.

"Just as I suspected," Six said, resigned. Lexaeus was quick to ask the right question, of course.

"Where do you suppose she is?"

"Where else?" he replied, gesturing once more to the computer terminal. Frowning, Vexen folded his arms and looked from Zexion to Lexaeus and back several times awaiting an explanation for all this nonsense. As they lapsed into silence, however, he couldn't take it any longer.

"Number VI, I've assisted your…er, 'search,' shall we say, without questions. But can't I at least have a little light shone on this?" he begged, yet still somehow indignant.

"Curious?" Zexion teased lightly, receiving a snort from him for effort. "It's better if you remain in ignorance, my friend."

"Remain in ignorance!" he spat back. "I'm a scientist!"

"An ignorant scientist," added a disembodied voice. Four, Five and Six looked around for the source, recognizing the voice with dread. They turned to the familiar dark sucking sound of a portal opening behind them and witnessed Xemnas emerge. He eyed each of them very carefully, nodding once to Vexen for him to relax. His business didn't concern him, and so long as they remained impartial only one of these Organizers would be lost.

That discreet movement from Number VI, trying to clear the screen of Vexen's computer, made it all too obvious. Xemnas was no fool. It was more than enough proof for him to take action, yet he couldn't help but hesitate, just a little. Not because the suitable punishment could never be reversed or due to him caring or any other absurd reason. The Superior hesitated only because the whole situation was a bit hard to swallow, in truth. But still he had to do what was necessary.

Xemnas took a pace forward, having delayed the inevitable long enough with his silly indulgence of rational thought. Nothing about this was rational, after all.

"Greetings, Superior. How can I be of service?" the Chilly Academic ventured somewhat uncertainly. He made a quick gesture for him to be quiet, never letting his gaze stray from Zexion. In turn, the Cloaked Schemer stood tall and attentive, not giving ground, and waited for the Superior's next move with unwavering patience. Like a good little soldier. Now Xemnas shook his head in disbelief.

"All these years of trust," he sighed, "and you throw it away for a naïve little girl who thinks something isn't 'right.'"

"Wh-What?" Zexion sputtered, clearly taken aback. When he recovered a second later, he tried to press on in an even tone. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're saying." He backed up a bit as the Superior advanced on him, bumping into the computer terminal at his back. Becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Vexen tried to inconspicuously edge away from the scene. Catching the movement and not wanting him to miss what would cold next, Xemnas shot a discouraging look his way. He halted immediately and tried to adopt a more innocent demeanour, but failed in the attempt. With dry humour, Xemnas thought he looked even more suspicious than before.

"You know what you've done," he said, attention back on Number VI. Knowing that playing ignorant would just make him look worse, he strived for any leverage he could gain in this situation.

"Superior, you don't understand. I was trying to find out all I could so I could properly inform you. I never meant to-"

"Enough excuses!" the Superior ordered. "You allowed her to escape-you _helped_ her. Your punishment should be just as severe as hers, should I ever get my hands on her again." A surge of dark energy went down his forearms and collected in his palms at the thought. "Zexion, we were like brothers once. But now you've turned your back on us," he said in a low voice.

"I didn't help her!" he shouted back in defense. The room went dead and the Superior's energy faded suddenly. No one ever yelled like that at their leader. And when he wanted to, Zexion could be a very loud voice indeed. In his surprise at the outburst, Xemnas had simply stared at him. They could hear his breathing in the stillness of the room, a harsh rasp, sounding as if he'd been running. Lexaeus, unobtrusive in matters as always, bowed his head. There was now no doubt that it would all be over for his colleague in just a minute. The Superior's rising anger became palpable and then he broke the long silence with one final piece of advice directed not only at Number VI but the other Nobodies as well. He spoke it oddly calm and quiet.

"Next time leave difficult situations for your betters."

Even if they wanted to, no one could stop the sudden violent forward lunge Xemnas made at Zexion with his bare hands. In the tension they never noticed him slip off his gloves. Though he didn't strike the Cloaked Schemer, his body was flung up and away, and they could only watch as he was sucked into a floor-to-ceiling pillar of twilight that appeared out of nowhere. No one made a sound and when he disappeared from sight the half-light simply wavered and vanished. Absolute silence once again filled the room.

Finally Xemnas sighed, turned and left through the door, closing it quietly behind him. The Silent Hero grimaced and lowered his head.

"I'm sorry, Zexion." For a long time, Vexen just stood in complete shock. Even when Lexaeus opened a portal and melted into it five minutes later, he was still grappling with what he'd seen.

"…Holy hell," he murmured to himself.

* * *

You'll find out what happens to Zexion later, but rest assured that I didn't actually kill the poor guy off. As for Risk, you can image she'll catch hell sometime, too. :D

This chapter was quite a bit shorter than I thought it'd be. Barely reached two thousand words. But I wanted to isolate this crucial part to stress it a bit more, y'know? Turned out pretty well this way, I think. Thoughts, comments, opinions, typos...feel free. I'd love to hear from y'all!


	14. Let the Pieces Fall

**14. Let the Pieces Fall**

From this new perspective, the world certainly seemed different. Everything looked bigger, of course, but that was mainly because he'd lost a good portion of his height. Then there was that complete lack of feeling, which he expected and was already used to, but even those faint memories of feelings were gone. So no more "emotion imprints," as he'd come to know them as. It appeared he still had enough of a mind to realize all this and recognize the environment he was in, at least. He should, seeing as he'd spent a good piece of his nonexistence living there. Kingdom Hearts held much more appeal now, though; shining down like another being. A higher, god-like being that could grant his deepest desire. But what was that again?

There was a Heartless behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know this. It was simply a plain fact. He shuddered and the next thing he knew the Shadow was nothing more than a dark cloud, drifting skyward before vanishing altogether. He didn't know if he killed it or not. He hadn't made a conscious effort to attack or even move, for that matter. Perhaps he'd acted on something of pure instinct, but still. This was getting to be more and more uncanny every minute, like his life had suddenly become a big, Vexen-style behavioural experiment.

He was dimly aware of more creatures approaching but some other instinct told him not to act with hostility. Turning to see what they were, he discovered that the five strange beings looked just like him. And he could tell the other beings had something to do, some kind of purpose given to them. Perhaps following these lost people would help him…maybe. More assistance for their task couldn't hurt, after all, and they accepted him, letting the newcomer walk along with them. As they traversed the dark streets packed together in a tight little group, he came to the conclusion that nothing but this held any importance at all. He could simply forget those scraps of memories from his past life-_lives_, actually-and be free from thinking. Guided by an unseen commander, he would follow orders. Nothing else. Anyone was better than him, really. It didn't matter who was in charge as long as they were and he obeyed. Only obedient Nobodies get another chance at being whole once again. That was what something told him. And now he would get rid of the Heartless threatening them, like a good little soldier.

**OOO**

It was a bit of a surprise to find Larxene in the infirmary standing over Nine, sprawled across his bed with his arms covering his face. For a second, since he appeared so still, Axel thought the Savage Nymph had gone and killed the poor guy in his sleep. But then he decided that the notion was ridiculous, remembering how Nobodies just disappear on such occasions. A closer look revealed that Demyx was, in fact, shaking a little, a sure sign of life. And the reason: Larxene's kunai. Axel sighed dramatically before sauntering up behind her and giving a good, hard poke with his finger in between the shoulder blades. The unexpected move, having not noticed him enter, resulted in a rare treat, which was her unique "Larxene yelp." Works every time, he thought, grinning. Larxene's head whipped around to glare at him, who only cocked a brow in response.

For them, this sort of an exchange was practically giddy. Number XII appeared to be in a favourable-enough mood, so of course Axel had to see how far he could push her. Without another moment's hesitation, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in, breathing in the wondrous scent of her hair. Grip tight, he took her with him in a free fall onto the cot behind them. She tried to scratch Axel with the kunai still out and ready as they collapsed, but his playful tickling threw off her flailing strikes. The Flurry of Dancing Flames got shocked at least fifteen different times before finally Larxene gave up on that and launched her elbow into his gut. Proving that sometimes the simpler method pays off better, Axel was forced to let her go as a pained "oof" escaped him. Twelve rolled off Eight, then pushed herself up from the bed and stared at him a little incredulously. That look turned to one of mild disappointment a second later as she watched him sit up and rub his stomach.

"Damn," she cursed under her breath. "Aimed too high."

Demyx sat up on the edge of his bed and openly gawked at both of them, figuring the circumstances warranted such forthrightness. Later he would realize that Axel and Larxene had honoured him with a display like that, one they called affection seeing as neither of them were injured (even if that had happened, it would have just been referred to as "playing"), showing their trust of understanding in him by doing so. At the moment, however, that trust was a little off as he just thought it was weird. Only Axel could've gotten away with that. And as he considered this, there they were, talking in calm tones like they always did on a casual basis. While waiting for the two of them to remember that he was still there, the Melodious Nocturne look down and examined his leg, realizing for the first time that his cast had somehow been removed. Well, it wasn't coincidence that there were scraps of white cloth littering the floor near his boots, but it was still curious.

"Hey, Demyx." He cocked his head to show his attention. "Larxy took care of your cast?"

"…Yeah, I guess so," Demyx said, still trying to piece things together in his mind. It had all happened so fast that it was pretty much a blur before he saw those kunai and his entire nonexistence flashed before his eyes. Not a very fulfilling life, now that he thought about it. But he also recalled that he'd been in a peaceful slumber when Larxene came in and when she'd roused Number IX due to lack of caring, he had shrieked rather needlessly. The rest he didn't see since his arms were in the way. "She came at me with those knives!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"Larxy…" Number VIII said with mock admonishment.

"What'd you do that for? Er…not that I'm not…grateful, or anything…?" he added unsurely at the look Larxene gave him.

"Well, you wouldn't be any good to me here, would you?" He shrugged. That was true enough. Axel narrowed his eyes at her.

"You know something, don't you? Come on, out with it."

"Are you completely blind or just completely stupid?" she demanded.

"I'd say I'm completely handsome." He punctuated that statement with a raise of his eyebrows. Demyx made a face and Larxene blinked several times. "…Anyway…yeah…"

Of course Axel still had questions on his mind, but since he'd inadvertently made a fool of himself, they'd have to wait. Yet he couldn't repress the sense of suspicion he now had towards the Savage Nymph. That was something he knew he didn't like, heart or no heart, not one bit. It eased though in a way when she gently tugged on a strand of his hair while Demyx wasn't paying attention to them, gazing instead at his leg again. After all, it was the universal sign to tell someone not to worry so much. When the person has hair as defined and tuggable as Axel's, at least. Larxene took her hand away a second later and Demyx glanced their way from the movement just beyond his sight. Number VIII scratched behind his ear in an odd, dog-like fashion then made a point to sound apathetic while reviving the conversation.

"So what, now that cast's off you got nothing better to do than hang around here?" Nonchalant, he waved a hand to indicate the drab room. It was apparent that the only spot of colour took the form of a few roses in a nearby vase set on the end table. Somehow it seemed appropriate that they were wilting—ironic, too.

The Melodious Nocturne stood up, eyes downcast, and did a sort of awkward dance from foot to foot as he debated whether or not to voice a question on his mind. It also did a fair job in judging that his leg was strong again. While he did that, Axel, in an attempt to attract Twelve's attention, threw himself back from the edge of the bed and kicked his legs up. Transferring all weight to his hands, planted a bit awkwardly under him, pressing down on the mattress, he swung his legs up the rest of the way, paused in that perfect vertical position for a second, then finished by letting his legs drift backward from his body just a tad in anticipation of the final, most impressive part. With a strong push with his arms, the Flurry of Dancing Flames propelled himself off the bed and after turning a quick back flip in midair landed on both booted feet. Such an impact resulted in a satisfying bang on the tiled floor, all occurring mere seconds after Axel had decided to go about performing his little stunt. Naturally, Demyx's slow, wide-eyed nod accompanied his glove-muffled applause and Axel nodded back in appreciation. Turning to Larxene, he raised an eyebrow. Knowing all too well what that meant, she smothered a yawn and gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Not bad. But the back flip was excessive."

"Aw, you're cheering on the inside, Larxy."

Grinning at his fellow Organizers, Eight folded his arms behind his head. Demyx wore a big, toothy smile of his own and Number XII rolled her eyes at the pair of them. Yet in a way Axel was right. She smiled on the inside, deep down within herself, in the darkest part of her being where no one could possibly sense it. Well, except _him _maybe, who was creeping closer to her with one of those ridiculous smirks printed on his face. A good sucker punch to the stomach wiped it off pretty well, though.

"Say, what happened to the Sorcerers around here?" Axel asked, again finding himself rubbing the place wherein the Savage Nymph hit him. Number IX cast a knowing look toward her, then appeared to become intent on studying the ceiling overhead. Arms crossed, Larxene started tapping her foot rather impatiently. "Geez, sorry I asked," he muttered at length.

"All right, I've wasted my time here long enough," she announced finally. Abandoning her previous stance, she dropped her arms and headed for the door.

"H-Hey, Larxene…?" Demyx appealed hastily.

"What?"

"You haven't seen Risk around, have you?" She stopped, tilted her head in thought, then shrugged.

"No." If Larxene ever managed to sound innocent and be convincing about it, that was the time.

"Oh." He slumped noticeably for a minute. "Axel…can we get ice cream?" The way he asked that of the Flurry of Dancing Flames, it really hit him that those two were rubbing off on each other. Smiles revived, he clapped the Melodious Nocturne hard on the back.

"Sure thing, water boy. Larx--join us?" She spared them a shallow laugh.

"Not in this lifetime."

"Oh, that's too bad, 'cause there's all this chocolate in the cabinet above the fridge and I don't know what to do with it. Damn shame it'll all have to go to waste…" They watched as Larxene experienced a literal three second freeze at the word "chocolate." As she began a slow, deliberate turn to face them, Axel reached down the front of his cloak and retrieved a small key set on a ring by itself. He jangled it at her in a taunting way. Expression almost trance-like, she made a grab for the key and Eight closed his fist around it. "Not so fast," he chided.

"...Damn it, fine. Let's just go!" she snapped. With that Larxene turned and stormed out of the room.

"Hope you don't mind," Axel said to Nine. He shrugged and made a little "eh" noise to let his fellow Organizer know he didn't.

"The more the merrier," he quoted as the door slammed in Number XII's wake.

They met up again in the corridor leading off from the infirmary where she'd chosen a good place to glare at her colleagues as they caught up. Axel, of course, just grinned back like the Cheshire cat, while Demyx shuffled his feet and otherwise looked uncomfortable in the exchange. Soon, however, they were interrupted by a portal coming out next to them and making Number IX jump slightly. It deposited a rather sullen figure, then vanished as if it had never been there. Lexaeus always looked like this, but something in his countenance made everyone go quiet.

**OOO**

Marluxia sighed as he sank gratefully into the soft armchair placed in his room, a glass of fine red wine cradled in one hand. Some of the Organizers poked fun at his high class habits, indulging on quality drink being the case in point, calling such things "pansy-like." He just didn't get it. Taking a sip from the glass, he put his feet on the upturned wicker wastebasket opposite him and took a moment to really savour the wine's taste. It was marvelous. Why anyone would drink that dreadful beer brew, known courteously as a drink (not so much so as pony piss), when such other fine beverages like this were available was beyond him. The Graceful Assassin swallowed and reached for his stereo's remote on the small glass end table to his left. While one hand fumbled with those blasted little buttons, he brought the wine glass to his lips again, anticipating the pleasure of another subtle taste. However, since his attention was divider between two tasks, it was inevitable that he failed both.

Toying with those difficult controls, he tilted the glass back farther than he'd intended and spilled a great amount on the front of his cloak. What Marluxia did manage to get in his mouth went down the wrong way, promptly making him choke. He jumped up, knocking the makeshift footstool to its side in the process. He pounded himself on the chest with his fist but the only good that did was cause an ache there. Finally he recovered from the bouts of coughing and looked down at the great dark stain now adorning his tailored Organization outfit with an understandable sense of displeasure. A frown on his once relaxed face, Marluxia put the near-empty wine glass down.

"Peachy," he declared as he moved towards the small bathroom adjoining his private quarters. "Just peachy."

After cleaning up as best as he could, the Graceful Assassin dragged himself back to the armchair and collapsed into it. The lighting he'd set up to make it appear like there was actual sunlight streaming in through the window now seemed rather inappropriate. He reached for the cord feeding the bulbs power and gave a good yank on it. Letting it fall to the floor, Marluxia paused in thought for a moment. Wasn't there something else also being powered by that cord? No, he told himself, that was ridiculous.

He sat there in the dark for awhile. There was a sense of hopelessness in the room and only a fool, or Xigbar perhaps, wouldn't know why. Maybe all of this was for nothing. A waste, all loss and no gain. Was anyone profiting from this, and if so, who? That was all he wanted to know. Marluxia's chin rested on his closed fist and he shut his eyes from a resurfacing painful memory. Everything had to be complicated. But he'd be damned if the rest of that fine wine wasn't enjoyed. He clapped twice and the ceiling lamp flickered on as he poured himself another glass. After the first sip, he set down his glass and picked up the remote for the stereo again.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Eleven muttered. With more luck than before, thankfully, he identified the correct button and smashed the silly thing in with his thumb, using more force than necessary. There was a tense pause as nothing seemed to happen. For a second he considered that troubling possibility that it had no batteries and therefore rendered his efforts useless. Then came an audible click, followed by, at long last, the gentle opening of "Bohemian Rhapsody" through the speakers. Marluxia sighed and leaned back comfortably in his armchair, taking the glass of wine in hand again.

This was the life for him. Just some time alone, a good bottle and a little bit of what he considered elegant music. No one really understood the Graceful Assassin and his unusual tastes for these kinds of things and flowers, but he didn't expect them to. He went for the finer things, after all. He was high class and so it was only a matter of time before he clashed with the others and found that his time was better spent with just himself. They were jealous of him, or so Number XI kept telling himself. They couldn't appreciate a good quality wine, discuss the plots of novels or realize the excellence in a true song—not even the so-called Melodious Nocturne. Well, Larxene was an exception for the first two, but whenever he'd try to bring up Queen around her, he got this _look_. He didn't know what it was supposed to mean, but it was safe to assume it wasn't anything meant complimentary. Then there was the matter of the flowers. Oh, how he loathed their teasing when petals fell all around in his presence. It wasn't his fault. Well, all right, so it was, but that was no reason to begin mocking a person. Besides, they made the place smell a little better.

Relaxing like this always got him thinking, and while he did so it often distracted him from noticing things. Thus when a Dusk appeared right next to him and pulled on his wrist, he could've had a heart attack. Circumstances preventing such an occurrence, he turned on the small Nobody indignantly and was about to demand a reason for the intrusion when he saw the portal open. It lingered there for a moment longer than usual before out stumbled a figure not much larger than the Dusk. They collapsed to hands and knees as the dark corridor faltered and collapsed, trembling from the weight of their own body. Finally they gave in and just dropped to the floor, out cold.

* * *

Ah, writing for Marluxia is ever so much fun. I mean, here we have a character who wields a scythe, has petals literally falling off him in many cut scenes and has pinkish hair. He could very well be gay (not that there's anything wrong with that) but at the same time he's the epitome of male elegance. Or...something like that.

I do agree with his stand on Queen, though. Rest assured that though in connection to Marluxia, the band is mentioned with my utmost respects. "Killer Queen" remains one of my personal favourites :)

Anyway, anyone who reviews is just plain awesome.


	15. Don't Tell Xemnas

All right, after about three weeks, too much mulling over the chapter title (I still don't think it suits quite right), a lot of pushing myself and some actual physical strain (it isn't easy typing for two hours straight, and my hand was cramping up Friday) here's the fifteenth chapter. There might be some typos or other weird crap like that, but I just HAD to meet that deadline I set for myself.

I own nothing but Risk.

* * *

**15. Don't Tell Xemnas**

Her nose twitched at the overwhelming smell that in turn roused her from a dreamless slumber. Flowers—roses, undoubtedly—by the bucket loads. So strong and sweet, much more apparent than the low sounds that she now realized was music in her conscious state. Yet it didn't seem familiar to her despite Demyx's afternoon lessons. These songs were different and quite fascinating. Before she'd been convinced that she'd landed in some flower garden by mistake, but now that Risk opened her eyes and sat up, she could tell this was it; home.

Feeling that the hood of her cloak was still in place, she pushed it back and cast her eyes around this curious part of the castle. Something that really stood out, harsh against the general whiteness, were the thorny vines crawling up the wall and creeping across a vast portion of the floor. They did a good job in making Risk feel rather uneasy, even though there were numerous roses sprouting from them. It also appeared that those sharp thorns would discourage uninvited visitors from coming too far in. One had to admit, it was a clever trap. She became a little more grateful of her elevated position atop the king-sized bed then. Even considering the massiveness of the castle, she couldn't fathom that a stranger room might exist within it.

Suddenly remembering her companion, Risk looked around for him in a panic, searching the vines in fear that he got caught in them. Though it didn't seem as though he was still there, she did spot the flower man across the room, back toward her in a floral-printed armchair. That end, at least, was clear of the hazardous vines. All too aware of the danger close by, she peered over the edge of the bed. Her boots, which she'd noticed were no longer on her feet, had to be somewhere. Risk grimaced at how the plants came up almost under the bed. In a turn of fortune, however, she realized that there were small cleared patches throughout the growth in which it would be safe to tread. The one closest to her, Risk was pleased to see, were already occupied by a small pair of boots. Positioning herself on the edge of the bed, Number XIII stretched her feet out to them, slipping into them and standing in the free space. Her eyes then fell upon Marluxia, unknowing of the fact that she was awake. Being truthful to herself, she admitted that the man with a serious flower fetish once frightened her. But because of recent circumstances forcing her into contact with him, she was starting to trust this pink-haired individual. On top of it, he was the only one who might help her now.

Risk was spent. And though the little nap had recovered some of her strength, she was still much too weak to be able to actually do anything as far as her powers went. It would take time before she could travel via dark corridor again. Of course, time was something she had, so it didn't worry her. Risk managed to pick her way through the mess of flowers and thorns without incident, though she did have to pull her cloak loose when it snagged once or twice on them. Finally, she broke free from its thorny claws and walked up behind the Graceful Assassin in a quiet stride despite the not-so-stealthy boots on both feet. She tilted her head to one side, considering how best to ask for his help to find her missing friend. If she could just find a way to appeal to his better nature…

A quick turn of events spared her the effort, for a moment later he appeared before them out of a portal that reminded her of twilight. There was a tray of small cookies in his hands, but that didn't stop Risk from running towards him.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the Dusk in an awkward hug. "I thought I'd lost you. Oh, I'm sorry about all this. But don't worry—I'll help you out no matter what." She released him from her death grip and looked down at the food on the tray. Picking up one of the cookies, she examined it closely before nibbling off the edge. "Mmm…gingery."

"Excuse me!" Marluxia said a little louder than necessary, causing Risk to turn and stare with surprise. He cleared his throat, not expecting to draw their attention quite like that. Regaining his composure, Number XI stood and took a few steps forward in her direction. On impulse she recoiled at his advance, putting the Dusk between them for protection. But he had gotten these reactions before and considered it a positive sign. If no screaming occurs, all is well. "Now, in case you haven't noticed," Marluxia went on in a milder tone, "these are my quarters and I don't care to have unexpected visitors." There was a small frown in his expression, making his point perfectly clear while still keeping calm and gracious, being the gentleman that he is. Sensing this, Number XIII stepped out from the cover of the Nobody. She tilted her head toward him in a gesture of apology before clinging to the arm of her Dusk friend like a child's security blanket.

"Please excuse me for intruding, but I do find myself in a bit of a pickle," she explained. "I was kind of wondering…and you can just say no…but if it's not too much trouble…um…"

"Go on," he said, bending over so that they were a little more eye-to-eye. Risk swallowed and pulled the Dusk closer.

"Can you help me find Demyx?"

Not anticipating such a request, though perhaps he should have, Marluxia blinked and straightened. Considering, he cocked an eyebrow. In theory, sure it sounded simple, but tracking Nine could also turn into a "Where's Waldo?" experience. On the other hand, if he turned the child away and something happened, as it always seems to, blame would surely fall on his shoulders. Because it has to be the flower-sniffer's fault. Realizing his mind had been wandering again and that Risk was still staring at him, waiting for an answer, Marluxia coughed politely into his fist.

"Er…"

"I mean, I think I know where to find him, but I don't want to go alone." She started to shuffle her feet, then became aware of her error and hastily apologized. "Oh—no offense," she said to the Dusk beside her. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or general lack thereof, but Number XI could have sworn it made a small dismissive gesture. Did the inferiors do that? Brushing off the matter for now, he came to a decision.

"Well, in that case, it would be my pleasure to assist. But if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to walk."

"Oh, yes, of course, sir. I prefer that way, too. Demyx is probably still in the infirmary." She smiled up at him gratefully as Marluxia moved towards the door. The rose vines shied away at his advance for some curious reason, letting the Graceful Assassin pass without their hindrance. Hand on the doorknob, he paused and glanced back at Risk, who hadn't moved in fear of the vines.

"Come," he called like one might summon a dog. She took her first few steps with a great deal of care, dragging the Dusk after her by its arm. After observing them for a moment, Marluxia returned his attention to the door. As he eased it open, there came a sudden commotion of booted feet from behind, but when he spun around it stopped. Finding no sign of the girl or her strange companion, Eleven looked right for them, scanning the entire room before coming round and landing his gaze to the immediate left.

Frowning now, he watched unimpressed as Number XIII tugged vainly on a vine that had wrapped itself around her ankle. The lesser Nobody, too, was in a similar predicament and had dropped its tray of cookies in the confusion. Not a significant loss, but one of these days he'd have to force the thing to pick out all the crumbs from his plants. He made a mental note of that and darted his eyes back to Risk. Realizing only then that Marluxia was watching disapprovingly of her struggle, she turned her head to him, loosening her desperate grip on the vine. After one last pull, she retracted her hands, grasping them together behind her back. They stared at each other for awhile in silence.

"Um…hi," Risk said eventually.

In short order, thanks to a helping hand from Marluxia, both Nobodies were free of the vines and following him through the castle corridors, keeping a good distance behind in fear of upsetting him again. Soon, however, he assured her he wouldn't bite and urged Thirteen to walk alongside him so that they could talk. The Dusk stayed as close as it was able, given a noticeable walking difficulty. It might have been that vine vine's doing, or perhaps Luxord gave it alcohol earlier, but Marluxia didn't bother himself speculating beyond that. He glanced over at Risk keeping pace with him, almost taking three steps to each of his.

"Tell me," he said, voice almost echoing through the quiet hallway they were traversing. "What is it about this Dusk? Unless I miss my guess, the two of you seem acquainted." She clicked her tongue, considering what to say.  
"No…that's a good guess," she assured slowly.

"If you don't mind, I'd be interested to know how you came about taking him in." Receiving a curious look, he sighed and elaborated. However polite they seemed, children always needed something spelled out for them now and then. "Why are you hanging around with a Dusk?" Such forthrightness sounded odd coming from the Graceful Assassin, but so be it.

"Well, I promised Zexion I'd help him."

"Ah, I see. What's the problem with it?" he inquired, opening the common room door leading onto the main hallway. Risk giggled as she preceded him through.

"You're funny, crazy, really. But I like you, Marluxia."

"And what, pray tell, makes me so funny?" he demanded indignantly, eyebrow raised to go along with a rather sour expression. Such a look only set her about giggling harder.

Out in the hall, he waited while the laughing subsided and she tried without much success to stifle the noise through her glove. Then they continued at a slower, more relaxed gait when Risk had assumed control over herself again. However anxious she was to see Demyx, it was only common courtesy to make conversation with Marluxia. He was doing her a favour and being quite decent about it, after all.

"Hey, Marluxia. Do you mind if I ask you something?" she piped up suddenly.

"Not at all."

"Um, how come, when I woke up, he was bring you cookies?" asked Risk, referring to the Dusk.

"…Because I told it to."

"…Okay." Neither decided to make any further remarks on that and walked silently past the great white kitchen doors. An Assassin pulled itself out of hiding from the floor without warning, making Risk jump as it seemed to appear from thin air. She should have been used to things like that by now, but portals and such still startled her if uncalled for. Head to one side, she stared at the Nobody and, much to Thirteen's surprise, it imitated her posture. Smiling at the idea she got, Risk quickly went about testing it with various outlandish poses. Marluxia, who hadn't stopped at the Assassin's appearance, now came to the realization no one was following him and looked back to see her making faces at it.

"Number XIII," he called. She looked at him, feeling a little ashamed of such childish behaviour.

"Sorry about that…" Risk said quietly, shuffling over.

"Anyway," Eleven began a minute later, his craving for conversation renewed. "You spoke earlier of Zexion. Where was the Cloaked Schemer last you saw of him?" This got another laugh out of the child.

"You really are weird. He's right here," she told him. The Dusk gazed up at the Graceful Assassin for a moment but otherwise made no sign of acknowledging either of them. He stared at "him" for several seconds, debating whether the youngest Organizer was telling a strange truth or if she'd lost her nerve.

"Er…sorry, what?" he asked finally.

"Zexion's right here," she repeated. Marluxia opened his mouth, shut it, and was trying to think of something to say when a loud voice disrupted his train of thought.

"Well, if it isn't Risk!" declared the Gambler of Fate as he stepped out from a dark corridor. "Hello, Risk."

"Hi," she greeted pleasantly, oblivious to the feigned scorn in his voice. Nodding, he frowned down at her.

"Luxord," Number XI mumbled.

"Sir Roses of the Flower Table," he regarded without much more enthusiasm. Not understanding what that was supposed to mean, Risk raised her eyebrows and looked up at Marluxia. "Risk, why not draw a card?" As Ten said this, out came about fifteen cards which he held face-down and fanned out for individual selection.

"Okay!"

"Luxord, we don't have time for such nonsense," Marluxia stressed.

"Time? Time?" he repeated, not unlike a parrot. Sighing, Eleven crossed his arms. Never use that word around Luxord. It opens an awful can of worms. "Time is something we all have, Marluxia. And though it is a precious commodity and should never be lavished, we all have some to spare. Do you not agree? These are my words of advice. Remember them, young Risk," he added with a wink to her.

"Sure."

"Now choose a card."

Perhaps in theory the Gambler of Fate's card tricks seemed like a good idea to use as something to impress people, or at least attempt such. There was a drawback, however. Outside his confusing battle tactics and prowess in poker, the only "magic" he knew was breaking into the Superior's liquor cabinet. So as Thirteen reached for one of the middle cards, Marluxia wasn't surprised when he pulled it away slightly.

"Not that one," Luxord muttered, trying to make the movement of his lips inconspicuous. She retracted her hand in confusion, but dutifully tried taking the next card over. He made a loud throat-clearing noise and shook his head in ever the slightest way when Risk glanced up. Holding her breath while she moved her hand to hover over the card farthest to the right, Number XIII looked at him again. With an approving nod from the man she selected it. "Right then. Look at the card, remember what it is."

"Okay," she said.

"Now put it back." She complied. "Where it was," Luxord added, peevish.

"Oh. Sorry." Adjustment made, he continued the trick by bringing the cards together and dismissing them. Sure to keep the interest of his small audience (or so he thought), the Gambler of Fate waved his gloved hands about magician-style. He then produced a single card from the air, as his powers allowed, and showed it to them.

"This was your card," he stated. After a moment passed where no one said anything, Luxord faltered somewhat and looked at Risk. Her unimpressed expression matched that of Marluxia's, amusingly enough.

Number XI began to say something, but Ten held up a hand to stop him.

"I know what you're going to say and, quite frankly, I don't want to hear it." They stood in awkward silence after his statement. Then Risk, mind never far from the matter, pulled on Marluxia's arm and reminded him they had somewhere to go with a discreet motion down the hall. Before anything could he said, however, Luxord was talking again with him. Odd, it was, how the two of them could be loathing each other one minute and discussing professional matters the next. She would have to learn the same someday, being in the Organization and all. But now they spoke about things no child would be expected to care about and Thirteen got bored quite fast. Bouncing on her heels with impatience and general restlessness, she watched the two adults hearing only a series of "blah blah blahs."

At one point, after an excruciating amount of time, or three minutes as either of her fellow Organizers would better know it, after she'd sunk to the floor in that way only children can get away with, a name was mentioned that literally made her spring to her feet with a surprised gasp. Screwing the manners, she was quick to interrupt their conversation.

"Demyx! Did you say Demyx?! How's Demyx? Where's Demyx?" Risk rambled off. Luxord, who she'd cut off mid-sentence, frowned but answered despite such.

"Er…he's fine. Finally got out of that bloody infirmary. In the kitchen, last I saw."

"Oh, is that so? We were just off to find him, weren't we, Number XIII?" Marluxia glanced around for her after not receiving a reply. "Number XIII?" With an amused smirk, Number X pointed down the hall and he turned just in time to see a small black blur disappear through the kitchen doors, Dusk in tow. He shook his head, letting out a sigh.

"By the way, you might want to know that the Heartless force field thing is down and said creatures are storming the Brink of Despair by the thousands," Luxord informed him nonchalantly.

"What?!" the Graceful Assassin exclaimed.

"It's proper to say 'pardon' if you didn't catch something someone said."

**OOO**

Soft melodies sung by his fingers on the strings permeated throughout the vast room. Axel watched him play, though Demyx didn't notice due to his intensity. Eyes on the sitar, he'd entered a state of complete focus that proved difficult to break short of shouting in his ear. On one occasion Saix had claimed, rather irritably, that he'd heard Nine's evening practice continue well past midnight. There wasn't anybody around to back up his statement, given that half the castle was away at the time and Luxord passed out from drinking earlier, but it wasn't impossible.

As promised, Larxene had cleaned out most of the kitchen's chocolate supply and was now leaning back in her chair with an oddly cigar-like piece in her mouth, eyes half shut. It appeared evident that she couldn't care less about anything at that moment. Demyx, on the other hand, changed the song he was playing to a slow, stirring introduction to accompany his thoughts. Troubled but not sad, he repeated it several times before launching into the first verse, lips moving along silently to the unsung words in his head. Closing his eyes to better become one with the song, Demyx shifted a little, halting the tune, and went over the first few bars again.

"Don't you know something a little more upbeat?"

"Huh?" The Melodious Nocturne started, eyelids flying up in surprise. His right hand dropped off the sitar suddenly as he stared at Larxene, making an awful noise as his finger tangled in the strings. "Oh. Um…" He pondered the posed question while freeing his now mangled finger. Appearing to decide on something, he hummed it through, watching his hands as they brushed over their places experimentally. "Okay," he said.

Confident, Demyx started playing again. This time he tossed cares to the wind and even got so bold as to improvise through the part he hadn't memorized yet. Maintaining that perfect driving rhythm he'd worked so hard to master, nothing could slow him down. By the time he finished he felt on top of the world. For him, it didn't get better than nailing a song for listening ears. He held the last note long and clear and it seemed to hang suspended in the air long after Demyx had let go and beamed at them.

"Nice," Axel said.

"Thanks!" Number IX exclaimed. "You know that part in the middle that switches into relaxed 2/4 time? I played the ending of it a half-step up. Sounded a little better, I think." Axel looked blank. "…You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Whatever," he said mildly, shrugging it off. Demyx fiddled with the instrument's tuning absently while the Flurry of Dancing Flames cocked a brow and smirked at something behind him.

"Oh no. What?" Demyx asked, seeing his expression. In answer he just pointed before turning back to Larxene, sitting at the opposite side of the table. Fearing who might be standing beyond, he grimaced and looked over his shoulder.

"That was so totally wicked!" came an unexpected shout of praise.

Before he could process what was going on, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled him down. With a small yelp of surprise, the Melodious Nocturne found himself leaning rather perilously over the edge of his seat, sitar near falling from his lap. But he smiled nonetheless as he released it in a flurry of rapidly vaporizing water droplets. Number XII exchanged a bemused look with Axel, who just grinned at her and leaned back to watch them. Scooping up the young girl in his arms, Demyx lifted her off the floor as he stood, knocking the chair back with a clatter. They laughed along together as he swung her around in play. Soon gravity got back on them, however, and Nine realized she wasn't as light as it seemed. Thrown off balance, he staggered, managing to get his legs tangled with his sweeping cloak.

"Urk…falling!" he squeaked.

The gazes of their colleagues followed them as Demyx and Risk collapsed onto the hard floor. Larxene rolled her eyes up at the pair of them, muttering "Idiots" under her breath. Noticing that Eight was now snickering at them, she rolled a nearby chocolate wrapper into a little ball and threw it at his forehead. He flinched as it bounced off, then made a small helpless gesture to her.

"That's not funny," Nine said, sitting up and crossing his arms. Risk clapped her hands over her mouth to quiet the fit of giggles she was having. They stared at each other as they were until Demyx stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and went cross-eyed. Inevitably, they broke out laughing all over again.

**OOO**

"How could this have happened?" Marluxia demanded.

"Apparently one of the power lines feeding the force field grid got unplugged by some idiot or another. Vexen's attempting to locate it, but in a castle of such proportions…"

"Hmph! What kind of a fool…" Then it hit him. "Oh-Ooooooooh…" Marluxia turned away, hoping Luxord didn't catch that brief look of realization on his face. But of course he did.

"You!" Number X exclaimed. He pointed a quivering finger at him, clearly going for drama here. "You _want_ Heartless in the castle! What better distraction to set the stage for another uprising?"

"Uprising?! Are you out of your mind?!"

"Know this, Marluxia, if that's even your real name."

"Oh dear God," he muttered, rolling his eyes. The melodrama was killing him all over again.

"As long as Xemnas is the Superior and I can stand by his side, you will not get your way." Luxord drew himself up and puffed out his chest.

"…You are a sad, strange little Englishman," Marluxia said, shaking his head. "I wasn't aware that the cord did anything but power the lights in my room. I forgot!"

"A weak rebuttal! We all know the events that occurred in Castle Oblivion. On behalf of the Organization, I challenge you." Somehow managing to get off his glove without him knowing, the Gambler of Fate slapped Number XI in the face with it. The sickening smack of leather hitting his flesh echoed throughout the hall and he stumbled from the shock. Setting his jaw in determination, he brought himself back to full height and looked down on Luxord.

"Apologize for that unnecessary act of violence on my person or I will be forced to take you outside on my honour as a gentleman," he said. A cold smile spread across his opponent's face.

"Make me."

"Very well!" Ripping off his own glove, Marluxia returned the favour with an even harder slap across Luxord's cheek. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed the place of attack.

"I'd bet my left earring that Number XII is in on this again."

"Leave Larxene out of this!" the Graceful Assassin shouted forcefully.

"Leave me out of what, now?"

Both men turned in surprise to see the Savage Nymph standing there, hands on hips, with Demyx and Risk there at right. Number XIII waved a greeting to Eleven, who hesitated before doing the same. Each group stared at the other, and Larxene noted the red marks on their faces with vague amusement. Uncomfortably, he slipped his glove back on, knowing he couldn't avoid notice.

"Marluxia," she said, her voice demanding an explanation. He didn't have to say anything, though, because it was then that Luxord decided to dig his own grave.

"Aha! So you are still a traitorous little b-" Demyx made a loud, nonsensical noise and cupped his hands over Number XIII's young ears. Seeing Larxene's poisonous glare directed at the Gambler of Fate a second later made him wonder, though, if he should have done the same for her.

"Obviously," she began, making sure to articulate every syllable as she advanced toward him, "you've forgotten your MANNERS!" On the last word she snapped her arm back, bringing forth four gleaming kunai. With her free hand, Twelve grabbed the collar of Luxord's cloak and lifted the weapons so that their points pushed into his throat just under the chin, slack enough not to draw blood but still causing a satisfying amount of pain. Risk whimpered and took cover from the sight behind Demyx.

"All right, break it up here, people!" Xigbar ordered, appearing from a portal. Number IX let out a relieved sigh, looking as if he could collapse. "You just want to kill everyone today, don't you?" Larxene growled but released her prey.

"Brilliant timing, my good fellow."

"Don't start that crap, Ten. Just get outta here—go help Vexen."

Though it was the first time Risk got to witness it, when the Freeshooter started seriously issuing commands and taking control, everyone followed without hesitation. When he wasn't joking around, he made a strong leader. He received respect easily. That's why he was second-in-command.

"'Kay," Xigbar said after he had watched Luxord leave. "In case you guys forgot, there's about ten thousand Heartless taking up space at the Brink of Despair. Xaldin and Axel are down there. Might not be a bad idea for someone to go give 'em a hand."

* * *

Plot holes will be filled in the next chapter. The part with Marluxia and Luxord slapping each other with the leather gloves, that was added in last minute. I thought the arguing needed to go just a bit further, and I think that did a fair job of it :D

But man, I had to really pull through these past few days to get this up for y'all. Thanks for reading so far and if you'll be so kind as to leave a review, I'd really appreciate it.


	16. Here There Be Heartless

As a quick note, the title of this chapter is both a play on the old phrase "Here there be dragons" or "Here be dragons" (Wiki it, it's kind of interesting. Go ahead, do it now. We'll wait............okay, good) and the novel I'm obsessed with, "Here There Be Dragons." But mostly the James A. Owen novel. Even though it has nothing to do with it. Well, it sort of vaguely does, like with the battle on Terminus...but I didn't really intend that. And the series bears a sort of "Kingdom Hearts with mythology" thing in my mind, but I think that's just me.

All right, I'm done. Now that that's out of the way...

* * *

**16. Here There Be Heartless**

From atop one of the castle's highest towers, where wind roared its constant pledge for dominance against the surrounding white walls, Xemnas stood as a solitary figure, gaze cast down upon the madness raging below. At this distance, the hordes of Shadows and Neoshadows looked like a single massive unit, moving in a distinct surge forward. Holding them back from proceeding into the castle and scouring it for hearts that did not exist, however, was an angry man with six lances and power over the bestial forces of wind. Rising up behind him was a wall comprised by the chaotic hurricane winds he had learned to control. They were in place to obliterate the few Heartless that managed to survive Xaldin's flailing, slash-happy lances, maintaining itself by feeding from the dreary weather that day. But though now he fought with unwavering strength, it would be illogical to expect one man to dispatch an entire army. Without assistance he'd weaken and, eventually, fall. So Xemnas watched diligently for a back-up to arrive and help stave off this invasion. If no one came soon, meaning for starters that Number II had utterly failed at a simple task, he'd go down there and fight for this castle himself. These pathetic being will never penetrate his empire again.

It looked as though the Heartless had at last deduced that the Nobody slicing through their ranks posed a direct threat. All at once they stopped trying to advance and turned their claws on him. Many were flung back and trampled by their brethren when two lances arced around in a sudden movement, sweeping through the dark creatures with unmatched finesse. Another set followed suit with the initial attack, then a third in quick succession. Before the cycle could be repeated, however, a brief gap in his defenses proved fatal. Shadows took the pause as opportunity to dog pile on top of the cloaked warrior. Several twitched their antennae, double-checking him for a heart before pushing on. Those collapsed atop him stayed in place stubbornly as the Whirlwind Lancer struggled to free himself. A Neoshadow drew closer to his exposed face, flexing its claws and leaning down to study its prey a little closer. Fighting to open his hand, which was being crushed into a fist by two very round Heartless, he intended to call forth a lance. But when the Shadows finally submitted to his strength and rolled away, weapon already gleaming in his tight grip, the Neoshadow chose that moment to rake a cold, harsh claw across his face.

Xaldin's roar of agony resounded all the way up to the castle's highest towers.

The Superior glared harder into the black swarm. For the past minute all signs of a fight had vanished and he'd lost sight of Number III. This was not good, and he therefore did not like this. Expressionless, he waited for a few more long seconds before hearing another roar as the dark army began pressing forward as a faster rate. This one, however, he did like, for it was a sound of challenge. Heartless were flying around again in short order, the distant forms of lances raging through and rendering their enemies asunder. Xemnas allowed himself a sigh. Remarkably, it appeared as though no more Heartless were coming to replace the many slain by Xaldin's hand. Slowly but surely the massive group was shrinking to a more manageable size.

It was only when a countable number remained some time later that the long overdue back-up arrived. Xemnas watched with a very displeased frown as a red-and-black spec ran down the blue path leading from the castle. He paused, taking in Xaldin swinging at a handful of Shadows, and the Superior imagined the words Number VIII no doubt spoke to himself.

"This is it?"

Letting out a somewhat disappointed sigh, Axel crouched down to regain a bit of his energy and witnessed his colleague impale a Neoshadow through the chest with two lances. Xaldin nodded his head, seizing the moment to breathe in the air now that the Brink of Despair was cleared out. A peaceful silence settled in. The dark cloud from that final Heatless, somehow always the most satisfying, seemed to linger just a little longer than the rest. Twirling his chakram absent-mindedly, the Flurry of Dancing Flames straightened, suppressing a yawn. He was about to address Three when something disturbed the very ground they stood on. There was seemingly nothing to hear or feel to warn of a threat, but Axel sensed that this wasn't quite right. Because things were quiet. Much too quiet. Apparently Xaldin didn't get the same strange vibes, since soon he turned and started marching back up to the castle. He muttered something about how "helpful" his colleague was in that battle as he passed Number VIII, but he didn't respond. Finding such odd, the Whirlwind Lancer stopped and took a few paces back to where he stood ground stiffly, eyes wide, mouth agape. Positioning his face a bare inch from Axel's brought no reaction either. Given that blood was still coursing forth through the wound he'd sustained during the fight, this should have warranted some kind of riposte. It appeared an event much more interesting was going on behind Xaldin's back. Finally he looked in the direction Axel stared and understood why, face falling into an expression similar to his colleague's.

Approaching the Castle That Never Was at a slow, deliberate march were two great Darksides with legions of their smaller counterparts clustered around them. The stuff of nightmares, it appeared, had decided to show up on the castle's doorstop that day. Xemnas cursed softly. Only they could draw so close without making a sound. He didn't know how much longer he watched them, but sometime later Number VII came via portal to stand beside him.

"Superior, I-" He stopped abruptly. Coming closer to the edge of the tower where Xemnas stood, Saix stared down the dizzying heights in disbelief. "I had no idea there were this many," he said at length, finding his voice again.

"The Heartless cannot be controlled now. They want Kingdom Hearts, and our castle provides a path to it. Since they discovered by happenstance that, without the force field operational, they can enter on their own, they have ignored all orders," the Superior explained. Not quite sure what to say, Saix backed up from the edge a little. He looked skyward where a break in the clouds revealed the ravaged form of Kingdom Hearts. Even in its chaotic state it was a source of great power.

"The heart of the universe…" he mused quietly. Then they watched as a bright flare seared through the black mass of Heartless, signifying Axel had just engaged the nearing front line formed by Neoshaodws, plunging he and Xaldin again into battle.

"Where are the others?" Xemnas demanded, not taking his eyes away from the Brink.

"Vexen is still attempting to fix the force field, Xigbar's rallying our best fighters…"

Saix trailed off as a mighty rumble of thunder announced itself and the perpetually cloudy sky darkened even further. He glanced up, thinking that it wasn't supposed to rain today, and held a hand out in anticipation of the first few drops. In an unexpected turn, however, a bolt of lightning struck from the clouds much too close for comfort and caused him to let out a cry of alarm. Recoiling, he watched another, this one sustained from its powerful source, follow the same trail through the sky and strike one of the towering Darksides again. If he were to stop and listen close enough, Seven would be able to hear a voice screaming "SUFFER!!!" at the unfortunate Heartless.

"…Number XII is engaging in the conflict…" he went on as nonchalant as before.

The Nobodies turned a more serious eye back down at their colleagues and subordinates fighting to protect the Castle That Never Was. With a sense of both pride and triumph, Xemnas lifted his chin as the first of the Darksides gave a silent roar in defeat and fell from Larxene's merciless attack, crushing numerous Shadows in the process. Still flickering with electricity, the body remained for several seconds, yellow eyes paled, before it melted away into an immense dark pool staining the ground. It was then that the other Darkside decided to step over its smaller minions and the Organizers, giving everyone present a rather suspicious feeling. It seemed to eye the castle. Without further warning, the over-sized Heartless drew back its arm and plunged it into the earth. A portal formed around its fist on impact, spawning Shadows not only to replace those lost but also enough to invade the castle in a sizeable number. It ignored the lances Xaldin speared into its arm and he soon had the assaulting Heartless coming from the portal to deal with. Only when Axel hurled a huge fireball at its head did the Darkside withdraw its fist. But by then it was too late. A large group could be seen scurrying up the blue pathway.

Heartless were in the castle. The Superior stiffened his jaw for a moment, shutting his eyes from the world to let the circumstances sink in. Deep breaths were taken and he shook his head slightly to clear it.

"Superior…?" Saix's voice brought him back to the reality of the situation. Though the Organization relied on him as leader, all must play their parts.

"Saix," Xemnas said, meeting his gaze evenly. "Get Xigbar's help to organize the inferiors. Prepare them for battle and have all Nobodies assembled within the entrance of the castle."

"_ALL_ Nobodies?" the Luna Diviner asked.

"Yes. Every last bloody one, be they Dusk or Creeper, Dragoon or Dancer," he reaffirmed. "Make sure Number II stays with them. Until this is over, he has full control of all the lesser Nobodies."

"Yes, sir!" Saix said, saluting.

"And if you see Number XIII…bring her directly to me," Xemnas added as he opened a dark corridor. With a final firm nod, Seven departed, sealing the portal again behind him. The Superior turned his orange eyes once again to the scene below. "This battle has only just begun."

**OOO**

Pulling Zexion along behind her, breathing heavily from running through the confusion of hallways that all looked the same, Risk tried to think only of keeping up with the Melodious Nocturne. Unlike the higher floors, the main colour scheme in the basement levels appeared to be dingy grey. Not that the change bothered her, but the sustained general drabness did have an affect on her spirits. There were some black spots on the walls and floor, but Risk had an odd feeling that there weren't supposed to be. In fact they probably had something to do with the evident smell of chemicals stinging her nose. Either way, it didn't matter. Of more importance now was getting a hold of Vexen and convincing him to cooperate despite the unbelievable circumstances. She glanced back at the Dusk whose arm she was almost pulled off. Some promises, this taught her, were harder to keep than others.

Just as Demyx stopped in front of the steel door marking Number IV's laboratory, a sudden violent tremor reverberated all the way down to them from the battle taking place somewhere overhead. Risk stumbled and caught her taller companion's coat to steady herself. It subsided a moment later. Finally with a chance to catch her breath, Thirteen collapsed by Demyx's feet and watched the former Number VI follow suit.

"You're tired, too?" she asked softly. He gave no audible reply or gesture to the matter but she nodded. "Yeah."

"Aw, man, Vexen!" Demyx exclaimed, letting go of the door handle he'd been trying. "Why'd you have to go and lock it?!" They didn't account for this possibility, given that locking doors in the Castle That Never Was seemed to be quite ineffective and no one tended to bother. Anyone persistent enough would just open a portal and gain immediate access. But the Chilly Academic's habits from years gone by held strong. Since Risk wasn't capable of using portals now, it looked as though the trip down there had been for naught. However, Number IX got a brilliant idea soon after spotting the space fitted with iron bars instead of solid steel at the top of the tall door. It was obviously too high for someone to jump, but it wouldn't be necessary to try with Risk's help.

"Hey, Risk," Demyx said, grinning at the thought of his own plan. "Could you give me a hand over here?" She shrugged and stood up.

"Sure. What is it?" As he went on to explain his intent, Zexion listened and knew he didn't like the sounds of this. But as rare as it was for someone to take the Cloaked Schemer's advice, most considered it an oddity to pay any mind at all of a Dusk. So he stayed quiet and simply watched the events play out.

It was a bit of a ridiculous idea to begin with. In practice it was downright absurd. But somehow they managed to pull off the first part of Demyx's plot to break into Vexen's lab and it worked.

"I can see it! The lock's a sliding bolt…thing," Risk reported, peering in at an angle down through the bars. "So how are you gonna unlock it?" She let go of the bars and looked to the floor with a hint of concern when he didn't answer. "…You okay?"

"Just…great," he replied. "Now…could you maybe…get down?" They wobbled slightly and Number XIII gripped the back of his mullet reflexively.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Demyx crouched so that she could climb off from his shoulders before straightening again and summoning his sitar. He ran his fingers across the strings, and he nodded a few times in satisfaction. Then Nine released his grip on it and allowed the instrument to hover on its own. Brushing away the hair that had fallen into his eyes, Demyx gestured for Risk to step back a bit and set about the task at hand once she was at a safe distance.

As he played the self-supporting sitar, water droplets started to gather in the air before them. Many appeared and soon they meshed together, cooperating to form a vivid blue fist in the air. In time to the music, it opened up, palm flat, and drifted toward the ceiling. When it became level with the barred gap in the door he changed the tune and the hand stopped before proceeding carefully to slip through the bars with ease. A short time later after he continued to manipulate the beat with perfect control, the Nobodies heard the bolt slide back and Demyx finished playing, finally looking up from his sitar with a bright smile. He dismissed it and stepped forward to give the door a firm push. It failed to swing open, however. He stood there and blinked in confusion a couple times, then sagged in defeat.

"Aw, damn it," the Melodious Nocturne muttered, hoping Risk didn't hear that. Tilting her head curiously, Thirteen walked around him and turned the door handle. She gazed up at him again as it opened. "…Oh," he said sheepishly.

They entered the somewhat chilling room together, illuminated just barely by a single automatic bulb hanging from the ceiling. He led the girl inside, keeping a careful eye on a tall glass case set up against one wall. The glass was smoked but he could tell something strange slept within. As the trio wandered farther into Vexen's laboratory, a sudden shuddering like the one they'd experienced earlier made Risk cry out in fright. She clung to Demyx's leg and the light bulb swung back and forth long after the shaking had stopped. Green eyes wide, she made a quick survey of the room in the eerie silence that followed, half expecting there to be a monster lurking around in the gloom where no light shone. She closed them tight when another tremor struck, this one making the light flicker as it swayed and thick films of dust settled on the ceiling fall. The battle was getting worse.

"I really have to go now." Number IX broke the silence, prying her from his cloak. Risk nodded her understanding and grabbed Zexion instead like a big stuffed animal. He struggled against it, not appreciating this new role, but soon gave up the futile effort. Not even the Silent Hero could get out of this child's iron hug.

"'Kay. Good luck." Risk knew she had to wait for Vexen here with the Dusk. And that Demyx had a battle to fight.

"I'll see you soon," he said, opening a corridor of darkness. She nodded again as he disappeared beyond it.

"And be careful!" Risk cried just before the portal closed.

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Thanks for reading, everyone! If you feel so inclined, please don't be afraid to leave a review. They're really quite nice.

On a plot note, I know that at the end of the last chapter I said that "plot holes will be filled" or something to that extent, but then some things changed (like it was sucking the way I had it before) and I decided to just push on. In the event that you have no idea what I'm talking about, that's okay, 'cause I don't really either. But rest assured, I will not forget to...um...do...something. Crap, I forgot!

And hey, would you look at that! This chapter marks the very first time I've ever had Demyx swear. Ever. Really. And that thing he was doing, manipulating the "water fist", that's how he plays sitar in the game when he's controlling the water forms. Y'know, not actually holding the sitar and all. I noticed that last time I played KH2. It's cool.


	17. Taking Back the Brink

(Inhale) I don't own anything pertaining to Kingdom Hearts or references you may or may not pick up on to Shadow of the Colossus but Risk and this story is mine (exhale). Okay. That wasn't so bad.

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**17. Taking Back the Brink**

Blood, fire and darkness held sway on the Brink of Despair now. Through the harsh curtain of smoke caused by burning Shadows, Axel could see Larxene slashing at her own attackers, an evil little smirk on her face. She was clearly enjoying this. Some notable dark stains on the hem of her cloak, all that remained of her slain enemies, announced victory over the Heartless that dared come too close. Glancing down at his own outfit, Axel realized the same thing had happened to his coat. He made a contemplative noise as he reflexively dealt with a leaping Shadow, impaling it on a chakram. Xemnas was going to have a fit. But since when did that matter? Launching himself back into the fray, Eight came down on a group of Heartless before whirling around and decapitating a Neoshadow, then lighting another one ablaze. He grinned at the flames. Maybe this _was_ kind of fun.

They weren't able to fell the other Darkside after it delivered the Shadows from its summoned portal, which was why it still stood, occupied by Xaldin. The sizeable creature, they'd discovered, was resistant to nearly everything except a good blow to the face. Even then it didn't react much to the fact that its head was on fire. With the other Heartless pressing their never ending assault, they had little choice but to abandon the effort for the time and leave Number III to deal with it. He needed a breather anyway. Now as the Darkside took a swing at Xaldin, only to misjudge and smash its fist against the castle instead, Axel became aware of a dampness underfoot. After eliminating some surrounding Heartless, he looked down and stared for a moment in confusion. Then it occurred to him that Demyx had undoubtedly joined the fight.

Stepping back from the inch of water beginning to flood in and onto higher ground where the Brink started to slope up, Axel scanned the area for a tuff of blonde hair or blue glint. Oddly enough, of his sitar-wielding colleague there was no other sight. But there was a sound from somewhere above. That familiar melody, gentle on the wind, made him look up. Perched on the edge of a dark, foreboding building that enclosed them from the rest of the surrounding city was Demyx, swinging his legs nonchalantly as he plucked away at the sitar in his lap. He glanced down at Axel and paused for a moment to shine a white smile down at him and wave, then resumed playing. While the water slowed the short-legged Shadows, it didn't seem to have a purpose beyond that. Tilting his head back again, Number VIII waved the chakram in his right hand around in an attempt to express as much.

"What are you _doing_?" He stopped and looked at Larxene standing beside him, arm still raised to the sky. Then his eyes fell to her handfuls of sharp kunai, bristling with electricity as she struck out at the nearby Heartless.

"That's it!" he exclaimed. Dismissing his weapons, the Flurry of Dancing Flames jumped at Twelve, almost getting stabbed as a result. Ignoring her surprised shouts and use of profanity, he shoved her closer to the shallow water, wrapping his arms around her neck to hold her there.

"Axel, what the HELL?!" Angry and incredulous to this, she struggled and shocked him with short bursts of lightning. Enduring the pain, Axel continued almost choking her, careful not to actually harm his little nymph. Then, as he'd anticipated, she began to cackle with raw, uncontrolled electricity. Quite aware that in this state she could kill him—accident or not—Eight held on just a little longer to ensure the provoked attack would follow through. Seconds later, arms and torso stinging with from the increasing small shocks he was getting, he let go and threw himself away. Naturally, he ended up stumbling over a surprised Shadow, but regained proper footing in time to see the result of his efforts.

In an explosion of light and unrelenting power, the lightning blast pierced through Heartless and darkness alike. Absorbing the brunt of it, as planned, was the now lethal water coming up to the Shadows' knees. A handful of fortunate Heartless standing on dry ground and away from the electric source looked on as a few hundred of their kin perished in agony. They didn't understand the concept of death—or, rather, any one of them disappearing from the world forever. But they did know that there were now far fewer of them than there had been. From above came a jubilant whoop at the success displayed on the Brink of Despair, thanks in part to Number IX. Axel dared not look up, however, in fear that witnessing the victory dance he suspected Demyx was doing atop the high building would ruin the moment for him. Instead, the Flurry of Dancing Flames faced a very irritated female colleague whose eyes were blazing with fury at him. She was really quite lovely when her eyes blazed with fury, he thought absently. But then he prepared himself for her wrath. They stood there, staring at each other a full minute until Axel broke eye contact by glancing uncomfortably to the right. Looking back to her again, he cocked his brow and spread his arms out for a moment before letting them drop. Finally, Larxene moved her lips to speak.

"You are an idiot." And there it was. Stated like a clear cut fact by Number XII. For some reason he couldn't fathom, Axel hadn't expected something so simple. He could only stare in outright stupidity, DOES NOT COMPUTE written all over his face. Larxene had called him an idiot before—hell, she'd called everyone an idiot at one point except the Superior himself. "A first rate jackass," she elaborated. That seemed less surprising. Some retorts went through his head while they stood blinking at each other but he decided to save them for a later date.

The matter still at hand somehow struck him of greater import for once in his nonexistence. So with a shrug as if to say "What can one do?" Axel turned away and summoned back his chakrams. In an easy swing Eight dispatched the lingering Neoshadow he's sensed at his back, then gazed upwards toward the castle. The Darkside, still showing no sign of relenting or weakness, continued its attempt to bring down the castle wall and would take the occasional punch at Xaldin, but little else distracted it. As he ran up the Brink to offer assistance in felling the Heartless, it performed such an attack, slamming its fist down and narrowly missing Number III as he dove out of the way. Axel reeled back a bit from the proximity of the strike, but took this as opportunity for a counterattack. Burning weapons raised and ready, he paused before they came down, however. The Darkside drew back its arm, standing upright again while Axel grinned at the ingenious idea he just came up with and released his chakrams.

Of course Xaldin noticed with rising annoyance when Number VIII stood there doing nothing with the arm of a troublesome Heartless right in front of him and then dismissed his flaming weapons. He cursed the Flurry of Dancing Flames as an angsting, suicidal jackass before shouting over to him.

"WHAT are you _DOING_?!" he bellowed across the Brink forcefully. By doing such, Xaldin was met with a questioning stare from his colleague, one insinuating that it was _he_ who had the problem. Setting his jaw firming, he twisted the tip of his lance into the ground while he watched Axel jog over. He met Three's glare with an even countenance. "I assume you have a good reason for not attacking in the previous exchange…?" Unfazed by the slightest hint of condescension the Whirlwind Lancer subtly exhibited, he gave a casual nod in reply, and then turned back to the towering Darkside. Watching it with a disinterested yet alert gaze, hands clasped together behind his back, Axel could have easily passed for an experienced guardsman surveying his territory. And in a way he was.

Xaldin, on the other hand, was losing patience with him as fast as steam rising and disappearing from the surface of a heated pool. Always it seemed that this fool wanted to do nothing more than play games. Multiple times since Eight joined the Organization he'd considered putting a very sharp lance shaft through his abdomen, but he knew that kind of behaviour was frowned upon. They all came back after awhile, anyway.

"So do you intend to share your idea or not?" he snapped after a few quiet moments.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you wanted to actually _do_ anything."

"Remember your rank, _Eight_," Xaldin warned in a low growl. If it weren't for the glove on his hand, Number III's palm would have been imprinted with the shape of his lance by now from the merciless grip he had on it.

"All right, all right, easy," Axel said. "Have you tried climbing up its arm?"

"What?"

"Have you tried climbing-"

"Never mind, I heard you the first time," he interjected. There was a short pause as Xaldin reflected on what his colleague had just suggested. When the implications finally hit him, he could only stare at Axel in bewilderment. It was beyond the Whirlwind Lancer how anyone could be so short-sighted.

After the initial reaction of surprise, he let out a resigned sigh, reality there to bite back at him as his eyes drew over to the Darkside once again. This was serious and yet he had allowed himself to become expectant of a solution conceived by Number VIII. Xaldin started to laugh at his own foolishness and, in part, at the joke he'd so easily fallen for, but faltered when he saw the determination on Axel's face.

"…You're quite serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"…Number VIII," he began in exasperation only to be interrupted.

"No, think about it! I climb up to the Heartless' head, stab it a few time in the eye and it's good-bye Mr. Giant Heartless." Three eyed him suspiciously. "Hell, isn't it at least worth a shot?" Axel demanded.

"Worth a shot," Xaldin repeated, voice full of scorn. "What do you think this is? Some sort of…" He paused, searching for an accurate comparison. "A child's video game?!" Not able to suppress a grin, the Flurry of Dancing Flames let a smile break out across his face and shook his head at some paradox unknown to Xaldin. "And what, pray tell, do you find so utterly amusing?" Hearing the warning note that he was about to lose his temper in short order, Axel brushed it aside and went on.

"Ah…nothing. Look, what I have in mind is better than just standing here with our fingers up our-"

"I get the picture," he grumbled. As if in agreement to Axel's statement, the Darkside swept a thick arm over the Nobodies' heads, making them duck, then brought it down and formed another portal overflowing with Shadows. Grip still tense on his lance as he watched more and more Heartless emerge, Xaldin stood considering awhile longer, a noticeable hunch in his shoulders. "…Fine," he said at last. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just distract it. I can handle the rest," the Flurry of Dancing Flames assured him. And after clapping his comrade hard on the back he ran off, setting fire to some Heartless as he disappeared into the thick shadows beyond.

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the Brink, Larxene was leaning casually against one of the cold black edifices and taking this rare opportunity to regain her strength. Not that she'd ever admit it, but the battle had taken a lot out of her. Tearing open the heavens to summon a massive lightning charge powerful enough to strike down the first Darkside wasn't easy work, nor was emitting that blast provoked by Axel minutes ago. He was an idiot, but at least it worked well enough to clear out most of the Heartless. And now no one could say she hadn't played her part. Glancing up to the top of the other dark building, she realized the same could be said for the Melodious Nocturne, whose resolved eyes were set on the distant city. Keeping watch in case this turned out to be far from over. He was smarter than they gave him credit for, victory dances notwithstanding. Larxene gazed at Demyx's bright sitar and tuff of blonde hair, obvious wherever their owner went, for awhile longer. Then, looking sideways to where Axel ran off to before she could properly electrocute him, Twelve frowned. Number III had been speaking to him, but now the redhead had disappeared from view, leaving him doing nothing. Even from where she stood, Larxene could see the dried blood prominent on one side of Xaldin's face. There would more than likely be a scar to go along with it later. Doubting that either of those boys could handle the remaining Heartless, she sighed and came off the wall. Raising her arms to call both sets of kunai, lightning surged through her whole body and she took a moment to revel in the sheer power. But as soon as it ended, Larxene felt the searing pain pulse down her right arm.

Somehow gone unnoticed until now, the source of agony made her drop the kunai in that hand, causing a ringing clatter to pierce the still air. Gritting her teeth against the sting, Number XII rolled up the sleeve of her cloak and stared. A long, thin yet deceivingly deep cut ran the length of the underside of her forearm, wrist to elbow. All the way through her blood mingled with some odd gooey black substance and imbedded where the wound ended near her wrist was a broken-off, shining dark claw. Lesser scrapes surrounded the main cut, but none of these even broke the skin and thus seemed insignificant. In the end, the greatest source of pain was that which radiated from the shard of Heartless claw. Not thinking straight, she poked at it and cringed immediately, having renewed the dulling pain in an instant. Larxene waited for her torment to subside again with eyes closed in an odd sense of serenity. Taking a deep breath to calm and prepare herself, the Savage Nymph then reopened them and took a hold of the talon in her arm with steady fingers. Muttering fierce curses the whole time, she was forced to pull it out slowly thanks to its curved tip.

At last she managed to twist the sharp claw fragment out as proper as possible in her situation. Larxene dropped it to the ground and examined her wrist again. Fresh blood rushed through the gash freely now that the claw had been removed. Subconsciously she brought the wound up to her lips and sucked on it. The amount of blood alone was enough to make her gag. Adding to that the foul dark element that could only have been some kind of concentrated Heartless remains, it was a wonder her stomach didn't turn over altogether. The vital fluid soon ended up as an ugly red glop on the cold ground, mixed with a good deal of saliva from being in her mouth. An unwelcome taste of darkness still lingered, however, and she cursed it. Never again would Larxene show even the slightest trace of mercy towards a Heartless. They could all rot in the deepest fathoms of hell, which would have made Axel quite jealous, now that she considered it.

Grimacing, Larxene pulled her sleeve down over the treacherous wound again. There wasn't much more to do except wait for the great scar that it'd leave behind after healing. Inspecting the ripped part of her cloak where whatever Heartless had injured her shredded its claws through to slit her arm, Number XII saw the black materiel was mottled with dark red stains and swore. She'd catch a whole load of hell from Xemnas for not only ripping the sleeve but also soiling it with blood. The black residue from slain Heartless on her wasn't a big deal, but blood was difficult to get out of cotton. And the fact it was _her_ blood, naturally, counted for nothing.

"LARXENE!" someone screamed suddenly. She spun around in alarm and scarcely had time to process what was happening before the Shadow leapt right at her.

Only a second later and Demyx's warning would have come too late. Somehow he'd spotted the small Heartless crawl across the ground to Larxene and cried out just in time. Releasing the breath he found himself holding, Number IX watched her jump away from attack and turn the Shadow into another handsome stain on the Brink with her kunai thanks to her lightning-fast reflexes. Dropping down from his feet to his knees, as he'd leapt up in surprise after sighting the danger, he leaned forward over the rooftop's edge, staring at the Savage Nymph and willing her to look up. After a short while she did and Demyx flashed the toothiest smile he could, adding an enthusiastic wave for good measure. There was a pause, then Larxene tossed a reluctant hand to the air in acknowledgement. Deciding that constituted as a friendly gesture, his grin somehow widened.

She sighed, shaking her head a little and folding her arms. Then she regretted her last action as the still-fresh wound announced itself again. Biting her lip stubbornly, the Savage Nymph refused to let her pain show on the surface. It was against her policy. But when something in the atmosphere changed and new Heartless appeared all around her as if on demand, rising out of the ground en masse, Larxene choked back frustration. She shut her eyes, just taking a moment to exhale, feeling the hilts of her weapons between gloved fingers. Squeezing them, she took a pace backward where the encircling Shadows could reach her. They came a little closer and Larxene's eyes sparked with fury as they opened. In a brief flash she turned on the Heartless, charging through the cluster at her back and leaving only a few lightning yellow tracks in her wake on the ground. The electric skid marks vanished, sinking down into the centre of the earth, as she whipped around again to hurl a fistful of kunai at the remaining creatures.

Luckily in her pause to aim Twelve noticed the portal opening in front of the dumbstruck Neoshadows and stopped herself from making the throw. Though her view was obscured by the other side of the dark corridor, a distinct blue glint caught her eye.

"Dance, water, DANCE!" And as the portal vanished, a strong torrent of water erupted from the air in front of Demyx's sitar. The Heartless were immediately swept away by it. A few surviving Shadows, unharmed by the liquid, were sprawled out in a daze a comfortable distance away, some with their antennae tangled together, oddly enough. Pleased at the accomplishment, the Melodious Nocturne turned his head to grin at Larxene over his shoulder. She gave him a slightly amused nod. Lifting his hand from the strings, Demyx returned the gesture with a thumbs-up.

**OOO**

"That blasted fool!" Vexen exclaimed for perhaps the fifth time in reference to Number XI. "And just imagine, if you hadn't come along I never would have found that disconnected cable."

"Oh, well…" Luxord said. "Number XI just let it slip and I simply put two and two together." The continued father down the main hallway side by side until they reached the small dark stairwell spiraling deep into the heart of the castle's lowest levels. Ten peered cautiously past the low archway and squinted through the unlit gloom. It was tight in the passage, just enough room for one man to slip by. Uneasy, he hesitated and stayed right where he was. "Er…no lights?"

"No," Vexen said.

"You're quite sure? No…" He shook his head again. "…lights? Hm." Luxord didn't move and just continued to stare into the abyss. "Not even a torch, then? A wall sconce, I think, would go well with the…filthy…bricks." He looked back to Number IV, who frowned, unimpressed by his fellow Nobody's display of cowardice.

"It's two flights, Ten," Vexen informed him impatiently.

"Yes, well, one could easily trip in such dark confines," Luxord reasoned. Sighing, the Chilly Academic pushed him out of the way and started down the grey stone steps without so much as a passing thought.

"Either come or don't come, it makes no difference to me. But you can forget about portaling to a place you've never been before," he remarked. After mumbling something incoherent, Luxord reluctantly followed.

**OOO**

Clinging onto the burly head of a Darkside while it jerked about, trying to get rid of its burden, wasn't as much fun as it sounded. Axel reached this conclusion about the same time the contents of his stomach did. He groaned and dug his nails harder into the dark surface of its skin as the Heartless flipped over its head. Shaking him back and forth, back and forth seemed to finally prove effective when, in a moment of horror, Axel lost his desperate grip. He screwed his eyes shut as he flew off the giant Heartless. What he thought would be his last scream died in his throat as the wind rushed into his mouth, resurrected itself later and got cut short when Number VIII's face smashed into something. Knowing from the texture and since he hadn't died (again) on impact that it wasn't the ground, he lifted his head cautiously. Long, curved claws and the black digits they were attached to stretched out before him. Now proceeding to slowly rise to his feet, Axel turned his head and found himself staring into the large yellow eyes of the Darkside. It looked as perplexed as he did.

A quick downward glance confirmed Eight's suspicion. He was standing on the back of its hand, raised to the Darkside's eye level. Nobody and Heartless met gazes for a long moment, neither quite sure what to do in this strange but lucky turn of events. It shifted as if to start trying to shake him off again, but hesitated and just went on staring. Number VIII was beginning to summon his chakrams to attack when something started to rise up from beneath the castle or, perhaps, the Brink of Despair itself. Eyes widening in recognition, his jaw dropped open as the armed vehicle reminding him of his old days in Castle Oblivion rose out of the endless abyss. And, as well expected, the unusual craft was manned by the equally unusual Number XI. Even at the distance separating them, Axel could hear his attempt at evil laughter in all its mad-sounding glory.

**OOO**

Though it was only out of great fortune that the Shadow had managed to make it past the Brink of Despair, make it he did. With light, quick steps he hurried up the ramp leading, according to his Heartless senses, closer to the Heart of All Worlds. What happened after reaching it none, including he, ever considered. But Shadows weren't exactly deductive thinkers. Twitching an antenna, the Shadow scrambled the rest of the way. Coming off the blue pathway, he didn't see the castle's first impressive room for the architectural masterpiece it was mainly for the simple reason Heartless don't care. The defending army of Nobodies there to greet his entrance might also have been a contributing factor.

A smarter being would have turned right back around and left post-haste after taking in the eight Dusks and two flanking Dragoons with Berserkers at their backs forming a firm line of guard. But the Shadow didn't move, just stared blankly with his round yellow eyes. Perhaps it was a sign of resignation that he didn't lunge forward to perish in a fight, claws blazing, but instead held ground while several Sorcerers drifted down behind him to block retreat. Or maybe Heartless were just stupid in general. The Shadow did, however, understand the last words he heard in that pitiful lifetime.

"Sorcerers…attack."

Shadows just aren't very fortunate creatures.

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Yeah, I got the whole deal with Axel climbing on the Darkside from "Shadow of the Colossus." If you've finished it, you may notice that the Darkside does something similar to Colossus Number XVI...but man, that was fun to write. Anyhow, reviews are welcomed, greatly appreciated and shown to the guest hall for a meal and show before being lodged for the night, wherein they might enjoy a luxurious bath and warm bed.

...Yeah. And thanks for reading.


	18. Hullo, Vexen

Here it is, chapter 18. I know on my profile I said Monday, but heck, Friday is a good day.

Er...I typed up the rough copy in one sitting, taking about, I dunno, three hours. Three late hours. I would go through it again and edit like usual, but I am on the laptop that belongs to my Dad and I do not know what the hell I am doing, hence the absence of apostrophes. But anyway, I would appreciate you guys pointing out any mistakes or things you find weird and I can fix those when I get back to my home base where all my lovely files await.

I do not own anything but Risk. Yup.

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**18. Hullo, Vexen**

He could only assume that the Chilly Academic knew where he was going in this labyrinth of twisting corridors, thankfully better lit than the stairwell they descended earlier. Torches enclosed by small metal cages and bracketed to the rough stone wall appeared at regular intervals. The light they cast off made strange shadows and the occasional dark corner seem even darker, but for once Luxord wasn't complaining. He just followed his older colleague and listened to him talk on about this failed replica or that hazardous chemical.

At last they reached the door to Vexen's laboratory, a strong, solid steel affair with two inch-long iron bars replacing the metal at the top for ventilation purposes. The ceiling sloped up a little here to allow the door its extra clearance and as Vexen mumbled something about a key, Luxord grabbed the handle without so much as a passing thought.

"Do you listen to a word I-!" He stopped as the door swung inward with barely a squeak, though it did grate across the concrete floor slightly. "Hm. I could have sworn I locked it last…" Vexen mused. Shrugging, he pushed past Number X, who muttered something unflattering for his rudeness, and proceeded straight to the back of the room. "Now all that's left to be done is reactivate the force field with this computer here. Don't touch that, it's corrosive," he added after glancing back at Luxord.

"I didn't!" the Gambler of Fate exclaimed with a little more defense than necessary, pulling his hand away from something on one of the experiment tables furnishing the room. Almost upsetting a stand of uncorked vials in the process, he winced as the resounding glass clinked together. Four let out a dramatic sigh of exasperation and gestured for him to come over. Focusing once more on the small old computer screen emitting a warm blue light on his features, Vexen punched a few keys to access the appropriate system.

"Yes…in just a few minutes our problem will be solved and the castle will once again have its own defense from those blasted Heartless," he said, pushing the "enter" key with finality. Behind him rose a clatter some seconds later and he spun around with a scowl.

"That one was not my fault," Luxord replied indignantly to his dirty look. It appeared obvious that he spoke the truth, as he'd been and still was standing next to Number IV, arms folded. Vexen nodded at him in a sort of apology and started to turn again when logic struck.

"Wait a moment…what…" His eyes scanned the dim laboratory twice before catching a slight movement under one of the far tables. Something beneath it had nudged against the table leg and caused an experimental electric mouse trap to fall and cause that clatter. "Who's there?" the Chilly Academic demanded in a harsh tone.

The two Nobodies watched as a small brown head poked out from under its hiding place tentatively before she crawled all the way into the open on hands and knees. Looking left and right for danger, Number XIII then stood and brushed the dust off her cloak, sending up thick clouds of it. She sneezed twice in quick succession as a Dusk followed her from under the same table, copying what she'd just done. The Dusk then sagged as if exhausted yet relieved for getting to be freed from that cramped space. Finally the young girl turned her glowing green eyes on Vexen and Luxord standing at the back of the room still.

"Hi there. Hullo, Vexen," she said with a faint smile.

**OOO**

Unbeknownst to them at the time, when Marluxia showed his face on the Brink of Despair then with that odd machine of his, the Darkside's demise was sealed. No one expected what happened, including Number VIII even though he had the best view of it from up on the creature's hand. Laughing maniacally all the way, Marluxia had charged the flying vehicle straight into the towering Heartless, its blades extended to be driven into his enemy's neck. And just like that, it was over.

Now the Darkside swayed lifelessly as the weapons retracted, having served their renewed purpose, and Eleven made himself scarce. Axel witnessed its dark body start to fade and float skyward as cloudy black vapour in that Heartless way. Maybe it was because of the danger he was in but everything seemed to be progressing in slow motion. It felt like an eternity before the inevitable descent started and suddenly the fact hit him. As the ground began edging closer, then started coming faster and faster while the Darkside's fingers trapped him face-down toward it in a final unconscious attempt at revenge, all Axel could think was, _Ground. Coming. Fast. CRAP!!!_ So he shut his eyes from the death awaiting him there and let himself enjoy the wind on his face. He felt the grip around his stomach and torso ease as the giant Heartless' hand disappeared, but dared not open his eyes. Surely the impact would come at any moment…and yet that plummeting rush had almost ceased. Unless he'd somehow missed the crashing and dying part, Eight was certain he wasn't dead, nor falling to that second complete termination of his fragile nonexistence. Carefully he opened one, then both eyes. Seeing the pair of angry ones staring back at him, Axel flinched despite his efforts not to but managed a "so you do care" smirk. Xaldin held his rough countenance awhile longer, debating whether to just drop his subordinate or send him flying across the Brink as a lesson.

Oblivious to Number III's thoughts, the Flurry of Dancing Flames spread his spindly arms out, feeling the gentle rushing wind keeping him aloft under them. It was like soaring across open skies and being free from the constraints of an earthbound being…or something like that, he figured. His moment of deep thought was brought to an abrupt end when Xaldin jerked back the lance he'd been using to manipulate the air currents. Axel dropped the few feet he'd previously been suspended at, landing hard on his stomach.

"…Ow," he muttered to the ground. Never one to be discouraged, he simply picked himself back up and ran a hand through his prided spiky red hair. It stuck halfway through, much to Eight's puzzlement, and he pulled it out for study. A coating of thick black goo now adorned his glove. His confused expression turned into one of repulsion when the origin of the substance hit him.

"Your hair is awash in Heartless blood," the Whirlwind Lancer kindly pointed out to him.

"Thanks," Axel replied, trying to wipe it off his glove. "Thanks a lot."

Soon after they were graced with the Graceful Assassin's unmistakable presence, though for some strange reason the abundant rose petals did nothing to lift their sinking spirits. Tossing back his hair as he sauntered over to them, the touch of a self-satisfied smirk on the corners of his mouth, Eleven stopped by Xaldin, to his chagrin. Looking back and forth between his colleagues several times, clearly seeking praise for his accomplishment, it took him awhile to notice the mess Axel was in. When he finally did, his expression twisted.

"Kingdom Hearts above, Eight. I know you dislike water, but that's no reason to post-pone washing indefinitely." Axel glared at him.

"Smart ass," he muttered. "This is your fault, you know." Marluxia made an indignant huffing noise at such an accusation.

"And how is your personal hygiene connected to me?" Xaldin sighed and tried to block out their petty argument. He surveyed the ground for any remaining Heartless in an attempt to distract himself instead.

"Who told you to kill that Darkside, anyway?! We were handling it just fine," Axel was saying as Number III glanced up again.

"Who told _you_ to jump up on it like some sort of…_maniac!_" Number XI fired back.

"Shut up, Flower Petals, Just shut up."

"Make me!" he challenged. Drawing himself up, he stepped closer and stared down his nose at Axel. His eyes downcast and face steady, he stood silent in what both his colleagues considered a very uncharacteristic response. The silence went on for several more long moments before he cocked an eyebrow, grinned and lifted his chin to look Marluxia in the eye.

"I just did," he countered. It took the Graceful Assassin the better part of a minute to comprehend what he had meant. Then he scowled at his own unwitting defeat.

"Damn your snide ways, Axel!" He turned away and crossed his arms, unable to look at either of them.

Two figures approached from the other end of the Brink to lay a permanent end to their quarrel with a new topic and Marluxia, not caring for further chances at humiliation, left them via dark corridor. Reaching Axel and Xaldin first with a wide grin, the Melodious Nocturne slapped them both hard on the back, though Three growled at him in warning after receiving the too-familiar gesture.

"The big Heartless is down!" he exclaimed. Before either other Organizer could say anything on the matter, Demyx was already on to other things. "Me and Larxene, we got rid of a lot of the little guys. I don't think they're coming anymore," he said just as the woman mentioned walked up behind him. Her presence going unnoticed by Number IX, he continued the one-way conversation. "Man, you should have seen the way she went after those Shadows! I guess I know what you see in her now, Axe," he gushed. Demyx shut his tired eyes for a moment and drew a deep, wistful breath, expelling it as a contented sigh. Behind him, the Savage Nymph exchanged knowing looks with Axel.

"How flattering," she said, lacking sincerity though not totally unkind. At the sound of her voice his eyes shot open and a horrified look replaced his serene countenance. Slowly, Demyx turned around to face her and felt his ears burning. He made a bad attempt to just smile, the fact made more obvious by the nervous laugh he tried tacking on.

By this point Xaldin had reached the accurate conclusion that his being there was no longer needed or desired in this gathering of young neophytes taking place now. So he made the excuse a gentleman makes while Nine fidgeted uncomfortably and slipped away to stand guard by the illuminated castle pathway. Still squirming under Larxene's gaze, the Melodious Nocturne mumbled something about helping Number III to his boots before taking off after his retreating form. The poor fellow practically left skid marks on the already battle-worn Brink of Despair. Arms folded, she waited for that curious backward glance, ignoring the complaints of that damned cut spanning her forearm. Just as anticipated, Demyx paused in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at them. Seeing Twelve staring right back at him, he jumped and almost tripped over his own feet trying to continue on in an inconspicuous fashion. With an amused little smile, she met Axel's eyes.

"So how are _you_ doing?" he asked, stepping closer to lessen the gap between them.

"Fine." It was what her mouth said but he could tell the truth was something else altogether. The clues were there. From the way Larxene turned her head to the side, a tell-tale sign on its own, immediately after answering his inquiry, the Flurry of Dancing Flames could conclude that there was an issue of concern disturbing her. Then, of course, "fine" is never fine. "Good" was fine in the best of times. Adding to that list of points her tense jaw and restlessly tapping foot, whatever she was lying about easily earned the classification of a serious problem.

"Oh really?" he said. "Fine?"

After explaining his theory out loud to her, Axel grinned as he was graced with a funny look from Number XII. Personally, he found the way she wrinkled that nose of hers quite endearing.

"So, Larxy, it's really easy for me to tell when something's wrong." She responded by rolling her eyes. "All right…so are you going to just say it or should I start guessing?" As only to be expected, Larxene remained silent in defiance. Though he chose not to comment on it, this again reaffirmed his point. He was about to start coaxing information out of her when, in an unanticipated turn, the Savage Nymph pulled up her right sleeve and thrust the wound, now crusted with dried blood, an inch from Number VIII's face. It took him a full minute to comprehend, after of which she hid it again under the loose black garment.

"Happy?"

"…Happy, no. Pissed, yes," he replied at length.

"Pissed? Why?" she demanded sceptically.

"Because you're cutting yourself!" Axel nearly shouted.

"You idiot!"

"What'd I do now?!"

"It was the Heartless!" Twelve yelled back.

"…Oh. That makes more sense. I…think," he added.

"And what about you? Is there any particular reason you're covered in black blood, or do you just like to go out that way?" Larxene placed one gloved hand on her hip and waved the other at Axel's hair stained with random dark streaks. His hand went up instinctively before he clenched and lowered it, arms ill at ease by his sides again.

"Er…no?" he ventured.

"'No' what?"

"…No…"

"Don't screw with me now, Eight," she warned. The Flurry of Dancing Flames couldn't help but grin.

"But Larxene…I just love screwing around with you," he said. Not appreciating the look coming to his face, Number XII threw a punch into his guy with her good arm only for it to be expertly blocked by his cupped hands. Wrenching her fist free from Axel's grip, she cursed and shook it out a little.

"Damn! I'm losing my touch," Larxene muttered.

"Don't worry about it. You never could land a good punch on me." She looked up from examining her sensitive right arm to glare at him, the urge to smack his ever-so-confidently grinning face rising again. But since he'd be expecting that she refrained. Instead, the Savage Nymph raised her hand and flicked her middle finger at the end of his nose. The sudden action surprised Axel, making him blink and jerk his head back after the impact of her nail. "What the hell was that supposed to be?" She couldn't help but notice the trace of a hurt look on his face. Once again rolling her eyes to the dark heavens hanging high above their heads, Larxene pushed by him, brushing her shoulder against his just enough to let him know she was there even though he needed no reminder.

Mumbling something of a joke about her way with people despite the fact that Number XII obviously wasn't listening, Eight spun around to follow but stopped before taking a pace. Glancing from her to the castle a couple times, his gaze finally stayed on the great white building for more than a second which now Axel could see appeared to be sparkling. Sparkling, twinkling and shimmering like so many bright stars. This was making him uncomfortable. He looked back at Larxene, who seemed as disturbed as he about this sudden rather peculiar turn of events. Closer to the anomalous light show, Xaldin and Demyx were also silently watching the spectacle. Nine quite enjoyed the display, thinking perhaps it would inspire another song, while in contrast Xaldin maintained that always solemn expression.

Soon enough the unfathomable array of glittering lights started flickering together in complicated patterns before appearing to alter. It was odd to see light in such a form anywhere on the World That Never Was, as they all knew well by now, but observing it surround the castle like a sort of shield was beyond unusual. Then again, this _was_, in a way, the twilight zone. Anything could, and often did, happen. Before their eyes the lights coalesced and emitted a faint blue-white glow around the entire Nobody fortress. Shining briefly, it then faded into the invisible barrier that Heartless dared not venture through. Demyx looked over at his more hardened colleague and the Whirlwind Lancer spared a quick nod. This was just about over.

**OOO**

Both Organizers wore sceptical looks after listening to Risk's explanation, Luxord in particular. While the Chilly Academic knelt in front of the Dusk in question, trying to stare the facts from its shrouded face himself, Number X wouldn't stop going on about how absurd the whole idea was. The endless outpour of words from his wide open jaws were ignored for the most part, but when he started raising his voice further with more enthusiastic protests, Vexen whipped his head around to him with a look so menacing Luxord forgot what he was in the middle of saying. He opened and shut his mouth twice while Vexen stared at him, making Risk giggle quietly to herself at how silly he appeared doing that.

"Number X, if you don't shut your screaming yowler while I am trying to concentrate to form my own opinion, you will find yourself awakening from deep hibernation within the confines of a pod on a desolate world missing certain vital organs." He paused. "And I don't mean your already absent heart."

"…I don't get it," Thirteen admitted.

"Well," Luxord said indignantly, "if you don't wish to hear my opinion, I shall keep it to myself. But next time just say so. No need for aggressive ultimatums."

"Oh, I haven't a problem with hearing the opinions of others. On the contrary, I usually encourage individual opinions to be put forth. It often spawns good conversation," Vexen explained in a mild-mannered way. Regardless of that, Risk already didn't like where this seemed to be leading. "It's when someone repeats their opinion eighteen times that I, personally, don't care for."

"Here we go…" she murmured.

"I was simply vocalizing my thoughts! It confused me that you would even consider such a far-fetched story from a child as true."

As Vexen rose to his feet with another insulting remark to counter the Gambler of Fate's snide one, she exchanged a knowing look with the Dusk Luxord didn't believe was in fact Zexion but of which Risk was almost certain. She just hoped Four would take her side in this situation, which seemed now to have a good chance of happening if he ever stopped shouting at Number X. Yawning, she hoisted her small self up onto one of the less cluttered tables. Several boring minutes later, Vexen ended the dispute by icing his colleague's mouth so that not even a mumble could escape it. Looking less than pleased with his fellow Organizer for this, Luxord crossed his arms and huffed to the best of his ability without the use of his mouth for exhalation. Risk hopped down from her perch before the Chilly Academic had a chance to scold her for it.

"Um…Vexen? Can he breath like that?" she inquired with a hint of concern.

"Hm? Oh, of course," he replied, sounding slightly disappointed. "Now, tell me how you found him." He gestured to the Dusk.

So once again Number XIII went about explaining how she came across Dusk Zexion, leaving out the reason for being at Memory's Skyscraper to begin with. Luckily Number IV didn't ask about that and just listened.

"There were a lot of Dusks there. Maybe twelve, but I didn't count," Risk said, shrugging. It seemed an unimportant detail anyway. "I thought one seemed sort of…different from the rest."

"Different?" Vexen repeated. Crouching again, he cocked an eyebrow while examining him. "It-he-whatever-doesn't move around as much as Dusks tend to…"

"Yeah. But I don't think that was all." As Vexen straightened and folded his arms, Risk hesitated, reluctant or unsure of how to continue. "I think he recognized me," she told them. Still quite sour about the whole frozen-mouth business, Ten rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way he could at Number XIII. The gesture went unnoticed by everyone else except a caged rat Four kept locked nearby. Sensing its beady little white eyes boring into him, Luxord moved over to it and bent close. He waggled a finger between the bars at the cute, furry little rodent. It wasted no time snapping at the black-clad digit and a great hole in his glove. He hurriedly withdrew his vulnerable hand while the fat brown rat continued to gnash its teeth together in a fit of rage only to get mouthfuls of iron bars instead of the Nobody flesh it craved. Clasping onto two of the bars with its pink, four-fingered front paws, the rat gnawed harder, glaring at the Gambler of Fate as he inspected his not bare index finger. He edged away from the cage, hiding his disgraced hand behind his back.

"He told me so," Risk stated in answer to Vexen's question of how she knew all this for sure. He raised an eyebrow.

"Lesser Nobodies can't talk."

"Not with words," she agreed. "But if you listen they'll tell you stuff." There was a long period of awkward silence as he blinked at Thirteen and tried to make sense of what she just said. Swallowing hard, she took the blank stare as a bad sign. "Please, Vexen! Demyx told me you might be the only one who can help and I _promised_ him…" she cried as a last resort, falling to her knees. Surprised by this sudden desperate exclamation, Vexen stepped back from the girl. He couldn't make out whatever else Risk mumbled to the floor but was inclined in agreeing to help this Dusk now, apparently.

"All right, all right! I've been working on a Nobody advancement formula, anyway…I could give that a try…" he mused. Her downcast head shot up, green eyes sparkling.

"Really?" she asked. "Pinky swear you'll try?" Frowning slightly, he just stared at her proffered little finger for a moment, but that seemed to suffice for an adult in her fragile young mind. Climbing eagerly to her feet, Risk gave the Chilly Academic her brightest smile in gratitude. "Thank you, Vexen!" she said. He nodded acknowledgement. Luxord looked ready to gag. The Dusk, while also grateful for the possible solution to his predicament, couldn't help but have a sense of anxiety about what may happen. But as usual, he said nothing.

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Thanks for reading and for all your generous reviews. Really, they keep me going most of the time :)

And now we are officially over 50,000 words! What a momentous occasion!


	19. Hide and Seek

**19. Hide and Seek**

Almost immediately after Number IV began scouring the disarray of his laboratory for that one elusive little bottle he never thought would be useful in the way they intended, a loud knock was heard at the door. Demanding and officious, if Risk hadn't been standing quite so close the colourful glass sphere he dropped in alarm would have surely shattered on the hard floor. Looking surprised but proud of her fortunate catch, Thirteen watched the bright object cradled in her cupped hands dance with light and thought it seemed out of place down here in such an experimentalist's possession. Irritated by the interruption, he muttered something about insolence as a second impatient banging resounded through the chilly basement, ungratefully snatching the sphere back from Risk and replacing it on the table.

"Who is it?" Vexen demanded.

"Saix," came the answer. Risk stiffened but none noticed aside from the very perceptive Dusk swaying back and forth as if on a breeze to her right. "The Superior insists I check your current progress." His voice invaded the room clearly despite the thick walls attempting to muffle the sound. Sighing in that over-dramatic way of his, Vexen maneuvered between the numerous metal tables to let their visitor in. Pausing with his hand on the door handle, Four glanced back at Luxord's bitter countenance and snapped his fingers, making the coating of ice on his lips break away. No need for unnecessary questions concerning his torment.

Vexen yanked open the door to allow the Luna Diviner's cold eyes their inspection of him and his prided laboratory. They stood frowning at one another for several long moments as if each were trying to read what was going on in the other's mind. The tension-filled silence between them was only broken when Luxord, having recovered from that sudden shower of icy particles, sauntered over and raised a brow to his fellow Organizer's staring contest. Saix looked over at him long enough to unintentionally wrinkle his nose in disdain. He didn't seem to notice, though.

"Well, what's all this about, Seven?" Number IV inquired, far from courteous. "No other errand around the castle to occupy your time with?" It seemed to Luxord that a battle of wits would be in order today and for a change he wouldn't be involved. Prepared to watch the verbal exchange as if it were and intense stroke to be made in a golf match; he seemed more than comfortable just stepping back and enjoying it.

"It is of the Superior's opinion that you and your…" Saix paused a moment to once more regard the Gambler of Fate, again scrunching his nose. "…assistant… need help with completing this important task, as he believes its complexity may have proven too much." They locked gazes for more uncounted seconds, Vexen's indignation thick in the already stuffy air.

"Well, you can report to the Superior," he spat out, "that things are progressing swimmingly. As a matter of fact, I do believe we're almost finished. Isn't that right, Number X?" he shot at his colleague standing idle at right and in perfect view of both other Nobodies. Not that he minded the credit, but caught off guard like this Luxord had to wonder when their situation changed from being a matter of Vexen's problem to this "we" business. As he saw it, he had simply lent a hand and followed Vexen for lack of a better pastime, plus the action could seem productive to a casual onlooker.

"Uh," thus came his intellectual response. Looking like an ass, he was learning, wasn't too much fun. Seven, however, chose to ignore him.

"Is that so?" he directed at Number IV instead. "Then you won't mind showing me what you've accomplished," he finished dryly. It took a great deal of effort on the Chilly Academic's part not to let his left eye twitch.

"Of course," he said a length. Spinning around abruptly on his polished boot heel, he preceded to lead Saix inside.

Falling in last of the line a safe distance behind Number VII, Luxord had to remind himself not to step on any small Nobodies should they stain his footwear and glanced over the ground for his height-challenged fellow nonexistent beings. They appeared absent from the path Ten intended to take after his comrades and thus he walked on. As he dragged his feet across the floor, it became rather obvious that the cleanliness of it didn't rank very high on Four's priority list. Dust stirred all around his boots, making them lose that highly sought-after shine. While paused to frown upon them and contemplate just how Vexen kept his in such reflective brilliance in these conditions, a tiny-sounding sneeze alerted him to Risk's presence somewhere in the immediate vicinity. Unsure of its exact origin, however, and still seeing no sign of the little Nobody, Luxord shuffled his feet back and forth. He was a smidgen curious now, anyway. The principle of the thing was rather juvenile, but somehow he just didn't care. As expected, another of her muffled sneezes came from under a nearby table.

"Ah…AH…ACHOO!" She sniffled. As the others crowded round the computer terminal, awaiting its almighty digital word farther on, Number X bent to meet a pair of large, owl-like green eyes staring out from the safety Vexen's furniture provided. They took turns blinking at each other, then Luxord expelled his breath smelling strongly of cheese and stale alcohol in her face curtly before straightening. He wasn't going to ask.

Ten hastened his pace a tad to catch up with Vexen and Saix. Just as he poked his head around theirs obstructing the view, the computer screen everyone was so interested in changed from a crude digital model of the exterior of the Castle That Never Was to an empty black backdrop. It reminded like that for several seconds, all the while making Luxord wonder what was so great about computers, until a blinking green cursor appeared in the upper left-hand corner. The Nobodies watched it intently as the vertical neon line traveled across the black field it was on, leaving behind words of the same loud colour. Now displayed onscreen was the simple message, ASSESSING PROGRAM, cursor continuing to flash at the end. After a few more minutes the awaited system check results appeared in that primitive form several lines down, confirming the activation of the castle's Heartless defenses.

Seeming to at last be satisfied with this reliable piece of electronic information, Seven nodded to himself, straightening to his full stature once more and clasping his hands together at his back.

"I will go relieve our comrades on the Brink of Despair and tell the Superior we have won this battle," he stated, heading for the door prior in swift stride. Vexen made an acknowledging grunt, scowling secretly at his computer monitor still alight with green lettering. Tolerating the Luna Diviner for more than ten consecutive seconds while he thought he was above everyone else on Xemnas's orders was not fun. Grinding his teeth, Vexen had to admit he wasn't particularly good at this skill. Any other time the two could get along fine, Saix even showed a little respect, but not when the Superior's word was with him. Then the man becomes an impossible jackass. "By the way," Saix added as an afterthought. He stopped and half-turned to look at them, hand still poised on the handle of the door halfway open.

"Yes?" Number IV acknowledged impatiently, almost to the point of losing calmness. He glanced over his shoulder nevertheless, pretending to be occupied by his computer, though Luxord noted that he was just banging on the keyboard.

"If you see Number XIII, bring her directly to the Superior."

"Er…why?" he asked, now spinning around completely.

"Immediately," Number VII went on, ignoring the question. His expression always was unreadable, but somehow managed to be even more so at that moment. Without waiting for any further remarks from the others, he turned and disappeared into the narrow passageway outside. Flinching as the heavy steel door closed with a loud, obnoxious click, the Chilly Academic moved with surprising speed in order to catch a large glass container that had been teetering on the edge of a far table. Placing it back where it would not be in danger of falling again, the thick white liquid it housed swirling around in strange ways, he then directed his gaze at Luxord.

"Pitiful," Vexen mumbled while he regarded the man on his hands and knees. "Get up, Ten. Since it seems pretty clear to me that you have nothing better to do, I want you to take Thirteen to the Superior's office for me. I am a man of my word…well, usually…and I plan to find that substance I...hold on," he muttered, slipping away from reality for the moment while deep in thought. "Yes…yes! That was it!" Excited, he grabbed up the glass container he'd just saved from breaking and stared at its contents. "Eureka! I have found the answer! Erm…again. If this Dusk truly is our Number VI, this should revert him back to…" Four trailed off. "What are you doing?" Exasperated, the Gambler of Fate lowered his waving arms and let out a long breath before explaining.

"I've been trying to tell you," he huffed, "that Thirteen is gone."

Before Vexen regained his tongue from the mild surprise inflicted by this piece of news, he held up a hand to delay the scientist. As proof for his statement, Luxord reached under the table they were standing beside and grabbed for something. Apparently that something didn't welcome the intrusion of its personal space, because in short order Number X released an exclamation of pain and started cursing it up and down. The Chilly Academic raised an eyebrow. Finally he managed to drag out the squirming Dusk by its sleek white wrist and lifted the unfortunate Nobody off the ground for Vexen to better see. All three of its free limbs flailed in a wild, almost desperate way while the hand sprouting from its wrist locked in Luxord's grip flopped around vainly. Perhaps it was for the better that Risk had disappeared and he would not be in the temporary care of any child.

"Kingdom Hearts alive, Ten, put that Dusk down!" Number IV exclaimed, stepping back to avoid an incoming arm.

"You see? No Risk."

"Of course I see, you arrogant fool!" he snapped. "But _I_ am at risk here with this flailing monstrosity! Drop my specimen before you break it with your stupidity."

"Your 'specimen'?" his colleague scoffed. Nevertheless he lowered Dusk Zexion enough to let his feet make contact with the ground. For a moment while Luxord's attention was divided, he took the opportunity to free his wrist by jerking it away with sudden ferocity. They then stared at each other, quite an interesting experience considering one lacked visible eyes. "Stupid Dusk," he mumbled, pushing its head away with a careless shove. Unappreciative of such mistreatment, the Dusk picked up a conveniently placed leather-bound book by reaching up to the table top and slipping its awkward hands under it. Wrapping sleek appendages around the black bindings, he drew the volume of formulas back over his hooded head and chucked the thick tome at Luxord's turned cranium. "Ow!"

"It's getting easier for me to believe this Dusk may be the Cloaked Schemer with each passing moment."

"Senior Vexen, with all due respect sir, shove it."

**OOO**

The portal threw out a sorry-looking bundle of black-clad Nobody in the middle of a long corridor, one extending farther right than the eye could see. Once Risk peeled herself off the icy cold white tile and glanced down the endless hall before her, she whimpered in disappointment at the unfamiliarity. She stayed there crouched on her knees for awhile longer, trying to catch her breath and muster the willpower to continue on through this corridor less traveled. Its spotless white walls and floor free of any scuff marks spoke itself as brand new, or at least an uncommon method for any Organizer to use for passage to other areas of the castle. Finally she took one more deep breath and got unsteadily to her feet. Risk was lucky to have made it through the dark realm in her weakened condition. It was no wonder she ended up in such unknown surroundings. Nevertheless, all of her steps had led forward so far and this time, she concluded, would be no different. In fact it was easy to look at it like a game of hide and seek, one of Risk's favourites. She'd hidden from Number VII with success and before that sought out and found Vexen with Demyx's aid. Except now it was hard to discern whether the circumstances called for more hiding or seeking.

In the end though she decided no one would be coming through this hallway with such a silent, isolated atmosphere in the near future. Especially while the Heartless still ran amok outside. Everyone else had that to deal with that still…didn't they? That was what she assumed, at least, since Demyx had yet to return. Trying not to think any more of it, Number XIII redirected her focus on the task at hand once again and turned to peer carefully around a corner on her left. Finding nothing but more identical, white, empty halls, she proceeded to slip around the wall's curve, back pressed against it thief-style. After inching a comfortable distance down the length of the next corridor, Risk glanced ahead and backwards before tip-toeing over to the opposite wall, again pushing her back into it. Moving along like this, palms feeling the way, was slow-going and perhaps even admittedly unnecessary but it gave her a sense of security. Reaching the end of that particular passage at last, she found herself confronted with a small dilemma. Here the hall split off in one direction, left should Risk have been facing straight ahead as opposed to pressed against the wall, but the passage also continued in its previous course as well. Both directions looked exactly the same from where she was standing. She thought the whole thing seemed very confusing and trying to see to the end of either hallway, despite any amount of squinting, was not possible.

After much internal deliberation, wishing more than once during that time she could just flip a coin and base it all on chance, Risk made up her mind to continue straight. It made a certain amount of sense. At last somewhat satisfied, she took the first few steps down her chosen path. However sure she'd become, thought, evaporated when a Shadow wriggled out from its hiding spot in the floor and fixed its beady yellow eyes on her, antennae twitching. She stood frozen in place while it studied her. Then the little Heartless decided it didn't like the way Nobodies had been killing all its friends as of late and charged at her. Naturally Risk yelped in fright and almost fell over backwards, as was the Melodious Nocturne's unknown influence, before turning to run like her nonexistence depended on it, which, as far as she was concerned, it did. Scrambling around the corner without a moment's hesitation this time, soon she was racing down the other hallway fueled by pure adrenaline. Looking back over her shoulder, she realized her small pursuer could keep up quite well despite their short legs. Eventually she reached another intersection going three different ways in this elaborate maze they called a castle and stuck with the left fork, skidding over on her boots. Checking her relentless tormentor's advance again with a long backward look kept Risk from seeing the stationary figure towering ahead. So she continued at a dead run, grinning as the distance between them started to grow. Thirteen never thought Heartless got tired that fast. But again, the short legs must've had some repercussions.

Just as she turned her head forward again, Risk was forced to an abrupt stop when she crashed into a solid black object of some sort. After recovering from the initial surprise at the sudden collision, she gazed up, rubbing her impact victim nose. The solemn expression only Lexaeus seemed to possess greeted her, complete with a hard frown and confused stare. He blinked twice at his short colleague and even unknowingly tilted his head to the side while they went on regarding each other curiously.

"Erm…pardon me," Risk managed at last. It was also that moment when she remembered what brought her into this position to begin with. Whirling around once more just long enough to get a sense of how close the Shadow was now, she squeaked and dove for the protection Lexaeus's muscular body could most certainly give. Though he saw the approaching Heartless right away, he stood firm ground and waited until it came quite close before summoning his massive weapon. Cowering behind him, Number XIII poked her head around Five in time to see it happen. With one swift strike the Silent Hero sent the little pest flying straight into the ceiling above. It hit with great force before dropping back down at the mercy of gravity and splattered face-down on the white tile. A simple matter of finishing off the Shadow resulted in what felt like the very foundation of the castle shaking when Lexaeus smashed down his tomahawk. The dark stain left behind soon dissipated into the air.

Now as he faced her, tomahawk already leaving his fist again, that original studious look returned. This time, however, it wasn't long before Thirteen found her voice.

"…Wow. You're my hero," she said, awe-struck. The trace of a tiny smile crossed his solid face, brief and almost nonexistent, but she caught it in his eyes.

"I thought that was Nine's position," he replied, humouring the young Organizer.

"It is. You're my second hero," Risk explained sincerely.

"…I have been looking for you," Lexaeus said after an uncomfortable pause between them. And suddenly she got this rather unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she'd somehow lost.

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Not as long as I wanted it to be, but chapter 20 will be longer. It seems to have ended kind of oddly, but the perceptive reader will be able to guess what will happen in the next chapter's opener. The perceptive reader would also have caught the small Matrix reference ;)

Anyhow, reviews are awesome and so are you for reading.


	20. A Question of Purpose

Again, I must apologize for making all my wonderful readers wait so long for a update. Nevertheless, here it is, the big 20.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts in any way, shape or form. Other than the games on my shelf, that is.

* * *

**20. A Question if Purpose**

When Number V told her to follow him, Risk knew they would be going to the Superior. That was just how this worked. But she didn't protest or try altering the circumstances with any of the time jumping tricks being a Nobody gave her. Instead she chose to accept defeat and walked alongside Lexaeus through the long white halls that paved the path to undeniable consequence. One could call it going with fate, though the wording seems rather dramatic for such an occasion. Though it seemed obvious a mistake could have been made somewhere on her misconceptions but pinpointing it would be all guesswork. Besides, she reassured herself, there was nothing a good discussion or sincere apology couldn't mend. Now if only Number XIII could get past the overwhelming intimidation Xemnas struck into her long enough to string together proper sentences, everything would be fine. She squeaked at the mere thought and swallowed with difficulty. Demyx's presence here at this time would have been a great comfort to her. In her young mind the Melodious Nocturne always knew precisely what to do or say under stress. The guy learned and mastered seven different instruments, including the elusive majesty of the sitar. He could do _anything_.

Hearing several strange noises coming from Number XIII, most of a worried nature, Lexaeus chanced a look at the child keeping up to his diligent pace and saw her bottom lip quiver as she murmured wordless messages over to herself. He didn't understand this strange little girl. For Xemnas to send him out specifically to bring back Risk, as she so preferred to be called, to his office, he assumed that she'd done something seriously wrong. Perhaps even enough to shake the foundation of this Organization. Hard to believe, considering how docile she acted and with the harmless demeanour she possessed to go along with it. But still Five was no fool, Nobodies were good actors after all, and he glanced at her from time to time with a weary eye. Had this anything to do with Zexion's fate? He believed it did. Though the Cloaked Schemer never let him in on what exactly he was going to do, Lexaeus had deduced that it had something to do with what had transpired at Wind City years ago…and of course _her_. The reason why Six had seemed to care at all was another unknown matter altogether. Perhaps it had been mere curiousity that cost Zexion his nonexistence. He heaved a great sigh at the thought of his lost colleague.

"You don't like me, do you?" Risk suddenly asked in a voice so quiet he wasn't sure for a moment if she's actually spoken. Taken by surprise nonetheless, Lexaeus spun his head around to look and realized she must have been watching him for a long time. He wasn't used to such outright inquiries and had to stop in order to regain a bit of composure.

"That is…an unusual question."

"Thank you," she said in response, still staring up into his eyes. It turned out he didn't have to think of an appropriate answer, for when they continued walking a moment later Number XIII got distracted and blurted something else out. At least her next words were a little more practical than a question of likeability. "Say, how can you tell which way to go?" He paused as they came to another intersection, hesitated as to whether or not giving her the secret would be a wise decision, but decided she was one of them in the end and pointed up at the ceiling. In turn Risk tilted her head back and stared at the place which Lexaeus's finger indicated.

Uncomprehending, she eventually shook her head in confusion and shrugged, looking back to the Silent Hero in hopes of a more detailed explanation. But instead he insisted that she figure it out herself with one blunt index finger. So she looked back down the corridor Number V was pointing with her nose tilted up slightly, gaze intent, until his arm moved off to bring attention to the alternative left hallway. Risk's eyes followed and Lexaeus relaxed his arm, having given away all he was willing. Her determined stare moved between the two paths' ceilings a few times before the young Organizer caught on.

"Oh!" she cried in the dawning light of realization. It seemed that she had taken notice of the Nobody insignia discreetly present on the above ceiling and also down the left fork. The design was absent on their right. Lexaeus nodded his assent once Number XIII finished sharing this observation which now appeared so blaringly obvious. That also explained why he'd been glancing upwards from time to time.

"Yes. These corridors were designed to confuse any intruders," he explained, leading the way as they continued ahead, "however rare they are."

"So the bad guys wander around in circles until we catch 'em?" The sentence seemed to sum it up well enough, if simplistic, to warrant another confirming nod from him, though in black and white terms _they_ were the so-called bad guys. But she didn't need to be burdened with this unfortunate spin on their situation. Not yet.

"It was Xigbar's idea to utilize the ceiling for markers after some of the inferiors got lost down here. As he says, people don't tend to look up often."

"That's true, yeah," Risk had to agree.

They spent the remainder of their trek through the many blaring white hallways in a more comfortable silence than when they began, Thirteen's mind occupied by searching for the light grey-black that the Nobody insignia appeared in here. It was easy to amuse her on most occasions. She counted up to seventeen of their various manifestations on the smooth surface overhead before she almost walked right into one around a sudden sharp, uncharacteristic turn in the hallway. Eyes following the curve made where wall met ceiling, Risk stopped as it led her gaze down to an immense, coal-black embossed variation on their infamous Nobody symbol. Her eyes grew wide as she studied the section of it bare inches from her small nose. After a moment she took a few steps backwards to a more comfortable viewing distance and glanced over at the Silent Hero curiously. It appeared they'd come to a dead end. However, Lexaeus then came forward with an air of purpose, Risk moving aside in accordance, and proceeded to run his hands along the symbol protruding from the wall. She opened her mouth to ask what he could possibly be doing that for but decided he knew more than she did and brought her bottom jaw back up. Perhaps at these times, silence _was_ golden after all. Her unasked question was answered soon enough, however, as Lexaeus's finger was quick to find the well-disguised button that depressed upon being graced by his gloved hand. Stepping back from the small square hole sunk into the wall, he watched with dull interest as the rest of the symbol followed suit with similar panels falling back. Once the embossed insignia had finished retreating into its white frame behind, the whole black affair split open, keeping its unique shape though now open for passage. A gateway in the shape of their trademark logo—it seemed to welcome them.

The Silent Hero gestured for her to step through first, thus after a slight hesitation Risk complied and was soon standing on the familiar ground of the main hall. It was easy to distinguish from any other of the castle's many halls because of its grandeur alone, but the double kitchen doors extending almost to its pitched ceiling gave a unique feel to one towering wall as well. She glanced down at that end, past the kitchen entrance to where the common room door was situated with a tad more humility.

"This way," Lexaeus instructed from behind her at the closer end, standing and awaiting the elevator's arrival. Number XIII followed him over to the opening doors, noticing with intrigue the quick disappearance of the passage they came through, as now no sign of its existence showed on the wall's exterior. A clever design at the least. "Thirteen," he said suddenly, causing the distracted Organizer to jump.

"What? Oh—yeah. Sorry!" She scurried into the elevator after him as the doors started to slide closed. Taking the opportunity for a good inspection of the small space, Risk then turned and gave Five a bright smile. Expelling a soft sigh, he looked away and punched in the button for the highest accessible level.

**OOO**

Now that Vexen had finally rid himself of the annoying, intoxicated burden referred to as Luxord, the room could slip into calm silence while he pursued the answer to the current living mystery before him. This peace in the atmosphere suited him quite well. He required concentration, after all. It was much like the old days of being Ansem's apprentice, before Braig discovered where his laboratory was hidden beneath the castle. Pushing the thought from his mind, he lifted the wide glass beaker with the strange white substance he'd concocted some time ago from its resting place on the table. Vexen eyed Dusk Zexion standing in a corner, waving a hand at the thick canopy of spider webs over his head. Number VI always hated arachnids, he recalled with reminiscent-invoked amusement.

"Zexion," he tried addressing it. The Dusk stopped swatting at the spider webs and moved its head, seeming to hesitate now at whether he should respond to that name. "All right, all right…we may have something here after all," the Chilly Academic mumbled to himself, as he often did at work in his laboratory. "Come over here, would you?" It complied to his request and moved in front of the scientist, standing oddly still for a Dusk while it gazed at him. At this point Vexen was unsure if he should explain what he was about to do or just pour the solution over his short-time companion. "This may be a somewhat…'novel' sensation," he decided on saying at length. And with that Number IV upended the glass, allowing its milky white contents to spill out over the Dusk.

Having an odd property that made it all stick together, the substance left no residue on the inside of his beaker. Every molecule of it got on the silent Nobody awaiting his fate. Vexen moved back to a safer distance to watch whatever events would unfold, glass still clutched in one hand. For several tense moments nothing appeared to happen and the thick white liquid only lethargically slid down the Dusk's hooded visage. But then it began to spread and melt, as did the Dusk with it. Soon the distinction between Nobody and substance blurred while with each passing second they coalesced into a single strange entity. It wasn't long before a twitching limb served as the lone reminder that there had once been a recognizable being beneath the shapeless white mass. As even that was slowly consumed, the blob taking his place started to shrink in size and eventually diminished to a small round pool on the floor. That, too, dissipated until nothing was left but questions. Whatever had happened, at least one fact could come from it: Dusk Zexion, whatever "he" had been, was no more.

Quietly the Chilly Academic set the now-empty beaker down and walked over to a row of counters against one walls containing a sink and several notebooks spread across its surface. He needed to document his observations for future reference. What had occurred here, however strange, could lead him to something later on. It was difficult to be sure of anything at this point without knowing if that was the extent of this venture or if there would be more from Vexen's endeavour yet. Some things took time to work themselves out. Nevertheless Number IV went about taking notes that may one day prove useful and scribbled a quick diagram in the vanishing Dusk's likeness just for good measure. Pausing a moment once almost finished, he set his teeth on the end of the pen in his hand out of old habit and scanned over what he's hastily scrawled. When it came to getting his thoughts on paper, the hardly passable writing that resulted made it obvious that neatness took a backseat to speed. But perhaps it was a good thing that only he could read the messy paragraphs. No one would be able to steal his theories if they couldn't tell there _were_ any theories throughout his notebooks.

Upon realizing that he was on the verge of devouring his pen while lost in thought, Vexen rolled his eyes up and mentally cursed those bothersome tendencies that seemed implemented into him. He removed it and dropped the gnarled writing instrument back onto the counter where it had rested before. Then the sudden commotion of the door being flung open to bang against the adjacent wall startled him out of silence and an unmanly yelp escaped from its deep confinement in his throat. As he turned in alarm to see four Nobodies march in, Axel pulling a snarling Number XII with the Whirlwind Lancer solemnly trailing Demyx, the unpleasant noise of three of them trying to talk at once broke into the room. Because of this Vexen naturally couldn't make out a single word any of them said aside from Larxene's new unflattering name for the Flurry of Dancing Flames, which was unrepeatable. She seemed to favour it, however, as that was the extent of her vocabulary at this time. It seemed distinguishable that Number IX was only wailing complaints to himself over the cacophony surrounding them, however, so when Four finally achieved silence by yelling the loudest he decided to try addressing Axel on the subject of why they were here. But first he paused for breath, believing his vocal chords may have just been strained, and let the newfound quiet linger while the gazes of his colleagues fixed him.

"Now then," he said, "to what do I owe this most esteemed visit?" Axel released the Savage Nymph's arm, who had only recently stopped swearing him up and down, and flicked back his spiky hair before placing a hand flat on one of the tables to lean against. Opening his mouth to reply, he was promptly cut off by Nine's delayed reaction.

"I think that sounded kind of sarcastic," he so astutely pointed out. Everyone turned their heads a moment to look at him, including Larxene who temporarily forgot her anger at being dragged down here. Xaldin then rested a hand on the Melodious Nocturne's shoulder from behind to draw his attention and shook his head in the slightest way when he glanced at him. Defeated, Demyx shut up and crossed his arms, slumping forward a little at the same time in a pout.

Soon enough Vexen returned his expectant gaze to Number VIII, who took the hint of his look to start explaining why it was they'd caused such a raucous crashing in. A fair request with a straight-forward answer. He stuck a thumb in Xaldin's direction, in effect bringing about notice to the new future scar running temple to jaw line on the left side of his face. With time it would become but a thin white line on his visage, nothing more than a vague reminder of this occasion. Regrettably, the hair it ran through would never grow back again, thus marring his prided facial features.

"We could use a Band-Aid or something," Axel said. In response to the comment, Three shot him a look that almost burned holes through his devious little skull. This escaped Vexen's awareness, however, as he had become too busy grappling with his own impending sense of irritation. Finding himself once again fighting back the involuntary twitch in his eye, he finally blew out a contained breath and managed to speak in a calm, even voice.

"That is why you're here?" he inquired. "Because Number III sustained a minor injury during his time on the Brink?"

"Yeah. That is why we're here," confirmed the Flurry of Dancing Flames. As he watched the scientist in amusement for the next few seconds, of which his face went through about five different expressions, Axel found that he couldn't quite place whether Number IV was just heading towards losing it or on the verge of such. Apparently the latter proved a more accurate conclusion.

"Isn't that," he began in a soft tone, "what THE INFIRMARY IS FOR?!" None reacted to the raised exclamation other than Demyx, who blinked once in mild surprise, which as a result let the Chilly Academic simmer in his own enraged words for awhile. It didn't take long before the momentum of his anger was lost amongst empty stares from the others and his breathes reverted from mad huffs to regular exhales.

If only for effect, Axel waited just a little longer in the room's relative silence before continuing on to the actual point of all this.

"The Sorcerers are gone, Vexen," he stated. "Don't know where to, but that doesn't matter because-" Cut off from his sentence's climax with an annoyed wave and obnoxious interruption of "yes, yes," Number VIII left his mouth ajar slightly while he watched Vexen nonchalantly brush him off and start a new rant at the same time.

"Because good ol' Vexen is here," he finished for Eight, "and he can be bothered with every menial task around the castle. Yes! Why not ask him to unclog the drain in the tub next? He's not doing anything, anyway!" There was a clatter as he began distractedly rummaging through the assorted junk cluttering one table, mumbling about the distinct lack of respect he was shown. Pushing aside some odd wire frame with purposes unknown, Number IV grabbed a hidden white cloth, uncapping a bottle of clear liquid and moistened it before tossing it to the Whirlwind Lancer as he crossed the room again. Upon receiving the wet piece of fabric, the corner of his mouth twitched as he stared at it in hand with initial confusion. A second later he seemed to remember what that liquid was for-a type of disinfectant-and pressed the cloth to the red line on his face. No one noticed the subtle wince in his expression when he did.

While they witnessed and listened to Vexen's melodramatic rant as he moved all around his lab doing nothing they could identify as having a point, the Flurry of Dancing Flames glanced over at Larxene with an incurious eye, or so he made it appear. The wrinkle creasing her nose displayed her level of disdain and after making the careful observation that there was a look of boredom in those deep pupils he decided on a sure way to hold Vexen's attention. He leaned in a little closer so that she alone could hear his lowered voice.

"Convinced?" Eight murmured near her ear. The short pause he left remained unused as Larxene had opted not to answer that. It didn't matter much, though. The question was of a somewhat rhetorical nature to begin with. "Now will you reconsider doing what I suggested?" he asked, this time hoping for a response. As if to further push his aforementioned point, it was at that moment when the note in Vexen's reached one of which bordered on hysterical. No one in their individual right mind would resist the simple fact that that he was a smidgen insane if they bore witness to the mental rampage he was in the midst of now.

"Oh God, anything to make him shut up," Larxene conceded as she started rolling her right sleeve back up.

"Ahem. Vexen?" Axel said. His senior's sentence floundered in the middle, so he took it as having acquired Four's attention for a short time. "You know, there is one more thing we think calls for your personal touch."

"WELL, WHAT IS-" As soon as the Chilly Academic whirled around to face them he froze for a good five seconds before even blinking again. In effect the room became dead silent in that time while his mind processed the gash there on Number XII's arm.

Though Demyx had been told in advance about it when Axel playfully grabbed onto her arm and then demanded an explanation after she almost screamed in pain from the contact, the wound still surprised him. In fact it proved a tad too much for Number IX. After his body considered vomiting, making him retch audibly, the room around him decided it wanted to spin, then his knees dramatically gave up their effort and he fainted. At the very least Xaldin was there to catch him with one arm. Of course he then proceeded to shake Demyx's limp, pallid figure back into consciousness.

It just wasn't such a great day for the Melodious Nocturne thus far.

* * *

Yeah, I made Demyx a bit of a wimp this chapter. But he is a huge, loveable wimp, is he not?

Thanks again for reading. Wow, chapter 20. I can hardly remember writing the first draft of chapter 10...feels so long ago. At any rate, I still have no idea how long this is going to be by its end. Once I said 17 or 18 chapters...and I'm nowhere near done at twenty. There's still a lot to sort out...you'll see -wink-

I'll try to not have a chasm-like gap between this update and the next, but my family will be moving shortly, which means everything will be in a box. Then we have to take everything back out of the box once we move it. It's a whole show...I just hope the new neighbourhood doesn't suck as much. But huzzah, I will keep writing.


	21. Of Books and Talks

**21. Of Books and Talks**

Hawks must have orange eyes.

Of all the thoughts going through her mind as she sat opposite Xemnas in his office on the thirteenth floor of the Castle That Never Was, this had to be the most prominent. Not the best observation to make in order to break the cold silence between them under the present circumstances but Risk knew she wouldn't be able to speak the first words anyway. Except to dismiss Lexaeus, the Superior hadn't uttered a sound since she'd come in. He had just indicated the chair on the other side of his desk and watched her with those piercing orange eyes, eerily managing not to blink for long periods. His hands were folded neatly atop the desk's broad surface and though his gaze was intent there was also a very relaxed quality to him while he leaned forward slightly. Given the furniture's width there was still a comfortable distance separating them but Risk pressed against her chair's back regardless.

After an almost unbearable length of time, Xemnas settled back a bit more and averted his eyes onto a lone sheet of paper for the moment. Her gaze followed even though she has on interest in whatever was written there with precise black letters. Lost in her own tentative recollections, she was startled when he finally spoke and being unprepared to pay much attention Risk realized with a touch of embarrassment that she hadn't really heard what her superior had said. It must have shown on her face though because now a noticeable frown tugged at the corners of Xemnas's firm mouth.

"Er…sorry?" Thirteen begged.

"Where is it?" he repeated, meeting her eyes purposefully and holding them. She stared blankly back at him, not able to hide her clueless ness and thus making it quite obvious. Sliding down further in the chair, Risk murmured as if she were afraid, though making no real words come from it.

"I…I don't know what you mean," she managed to admit. Why she always felt so helpless and vulnerable in front of him would perhaps never have a satisfying amount of sense but it didn't matter enough to make a difference. The universe on its own worked in strange ways and being a Nobody in itself was already rather confusing. Nothing seemed to have a definite answer and whatever did lead to more questions.

They sat again in silence for awhile longer with his simple look at her able to challenge the truthfulness of such innocent-sounding statements. She continued to tremble under the Superior's gaze however hard she tried to keep herself still. But soon she was granted a small mercy as Xemnas rose from his seat releasing a small, mildly agitated sigh. He moved out from behind the desk with a bit of awkwardness given the proximity of the chair to the wall. Freeing himself from the tight space with authority nonetheless, he straightened his coat by giving it a quick tug before turning his back on Risk in favour of the metal filing cabinet that rested against the white wall. Then he just stood there a moment, silent, perhaps mulling over something. From behind his back Xemnas reached a hand out to one of the drawers in it and not the only with a small keyhole above the handle. With a hint of irony as he tried the handle to find it unlocked he realized that if he had waited but another restless night to study those mysterious passages again this whole rather unfortunate circumstance would have been averted.

"The book," he said, eyes still scanning the empty metal drawer though he was expecting to find just that; nothing. Amazing how one small, seemingly unimportant decision could lead to such unfavourable repercussions. If he had not happened to pull out the book on that particular night it would have been locked out of sight when Risk was last called in here. Thus he would still have it and Number XIII would have been none the wiser. And, of course, he wouldn't be in need of a new Number VI.

The drawer made a sad-sounding squeak when he pushed it shut again. He turned back to Risk who remained silent though the expression of sincere ignorance had long since disappeared.

"I will ask one more time," he said, more to himself than her. "Where is the book which just so happened to vanish into thin air after you were here?" If it were possible, she would have sunk even farther down in hopes of somehow extracting herself from this painful confrontation. Her bottom lip quivered slightly when the Superior took a step forward and planted his palm on the desk. Being immune to all effects of helpless gestures, and thus lacking the devices for showing mercy, he locked her there with such an expectant, even knowing gaze that it was only a few moments before her fragile resistance cracked.

"I took it," she admitted in an unsteady voice, "and I read it a little…but I didn't really understand it…" Which was the truth however far from all, but the Superior didn't question her any further on it. At any rate he was more acceptant of this than a lot of things. Regardless he was quiet in absorbing what she said because was information really mattered was about to come. "So I thought that maybe it would make more sense if I read it somewhere quiet."

"Without the regular interruptions of this castle," Xemnas mused aloud. Now that was a topic he could relate to. He could recall countless such occasions just in the short time it took him to pace back to his chair.

"Hm?"

"Nothing of relevance." He brushed it off while settling once more into the familiar black desk chair as he'd done so many times before. "Continue," prompted the Superior, gesturing to Thirteen in accordance.

"Um, well," she began again with an air of uncertainty. "Then I went, er…uh-um…to that place," Risk said, which admittedly wasn't very articulate. Now it seemed that a sense of both reluctance and distrust had recovered their ground within her mind and thus applied themselves against Xemnas. They had a simple motive; avoid, in any way possible, serious trouble. Perhaps telling him something a little more favourable than the truth would serve her better.

But when the Superior very slowly arched his right eyebrow in suspicion to her previous statement all her child-like logic was dispelled. For lack of a better option, perhaps, she blurted the answer he'd pressed for, the simple location he'd awaited.

"Wind City." She grimaced as the words left her mouth, though not quite sure why they seemed to sting. Looking almost right through her large round pupils, or maybe just past them and into space, Xemnas made an affirming nod as if Risk hadn't said anything more intriguing than a fairly obvious observation about the weather.

"Wind City," he repeated.

"Wind City," she said again. Suddenly anxious, she bounced up and down in her seat a few times. Xemnas refocused his gaze on her long enough for his mouth to twitch into an unfathomable little frown before another thought came to him. And with it a long abandoned side mission seemed somehow attainable once more.

"You know," he began, folding his hands atop the desk and, for some reason, dropping his voice enough so that Risk found herself leaning closer to hear. This effect certainly did well to build anticipation. "Leaving the world without requesting permission for your temporary absence is not only a dangerous and foolish act in itself but also… not allowed." The sentence was left hanging a bit lame in the air between them. Xemnas drew back, orange eyes emptying again to their uncaring dullness while she stared back at them. Flat, impenetrable. The man was like a locked door someone had lost the key for. Caged up within himself, a soulless machine even among Nobodies, but perhaps that is what they'd all be like were they robbed of their subconscious emotion masks. And Risk still didn't know what to say in response to her superior. So the seconds drew out longer in more silence.

Picking up again some moments later, he spoke as if there had been no pause, or at least with the composure to suggest so.

"But perhaps on this one occasion the usual punishment I reserve for these infractions could be substituted." Her head came up, curious at this somewhat suspicious proposition. Such an offer sounded good to Thirteen, though she wasn't quite sure of his meaning.

"Um…substituted?" she inquired to which Superior Xemnas nodded. "How…so?" For just a second something flashed in his eyes but it was overshadowed into a possible trick of the light when two quick knocks were followed by the door flying open.

Both heads swiveled to the Organizer framed in the doorway who looked purposefully at the office's main occupant before giving a less flattering regard to Risk. She raised her hand a little above the desk in an unsure greeting for him who gave no notice other than a slight hesitation, due mostly to her presence there in general.

"Excuse my intrusion, Superior, but I have good news to report of on the Heartless situation," Number VII said. Xemnas nodded once and he continued. "After ensuring that the Brink of Despair had been fully cleared of the threat I went down and dismissed Numbers III, VIII, IX and XII from their defensive positions," he re-accounted with more enthusiasm than Risk had ever seen come from him before. It seemed as though these moments were what he lived for. "Then I-"

"Mm, yes, I see. Very good of you," the Superior cut in. He fidgeted a bit restlessly around out of displeasure. But then he stopped, a new idea to strengthen his initial plan presenting itself from this change of circumstance. "Saix," he said suddenly.

"Xemnas," Seven answered, still looking a bit deflated in the most solemn way one could.

"It is good that the Brink of Despair is once again under control, but wouldn't you both agree that knowledge of _why_ there was this problem to begin with would be useful?"

"…Well, yes," he said. After hearing his answer, Risk also concurred to the Superior with a slow nod that showed she didn't actually know what the adults were talking about and was just going along with them.

"Then I am sure you won't object to trying to find out what happened to the castle's defense shield," he went on.

"No, of course not, Superior." Here Xemnas stood while Number XIII looked back and forth between them curiously.

"Well, as it appears we have several individuals who may know more about this at our disposal, I suggest a meeting."

"Indeed. I will gather the rest of the Organization…shall I direct them to the meeting room?"

"No, the kitchen will do. This needn't be too formal," Xemnas said as he paced a little out from his desk. With a final nod Saix stepped back towards the door. "I trust you will take care of things in my absence."

As only to be expected, the Luna Diviner faltered somewhat upon realizing the meaning of his words, in turn missing the doorknob his hand had started reaching for. He failed to sense the pain when his knuckles collided with the wood with this distraction pulling his mind in another direction.

"…Ow," came his delayed reaction, sparing a rather blank look at the offending door. After a moment Saix seemed to come to terms with it and snapped his eyes back to the Superior. "Superior, what-how-why-where…I don't understand."

"Well, I believe that is obvious." Something about his matter-of-fact tone triggered Thirteen to snicker which she quickly silenced under her gloved palm. Saix regarded her a second, who was turned around in the chair on her knees to see them standing by the door. His narrowed eyes quieted her while the Superior continued talking opposite him. "There is nothing complicated about what I am asking you to do, Seven."

"But Superior, while I direct all this, where will _you_ be?" Careful not to glance sideways at Risk, as yet again the Luna Diviner had occupied himself in doing, he shifted so that his figure stood more firmly. After a bit of a pause Xemnas answered as simply as he could at this point.

"That," he began in a deep, purposeful tone, "is of no concern to you right now."

For a short time after he'd spoken, Number VII hesitated as if wanting to say something more, but the look on his face made it clear that the discussion was over. So Saix swept an arm across his midriff, respectfully tilting his head towards the room as his bowed frame moved back through the door opened now by his other hand. Once it closed with a silence-inflicting click, Xemnas stood for awhile, eyes still staring empty into space, as breath filled his chest. He let it out again in a way that wouldn't disturb a butterfly. Then he stepped away more from his desk and Number XIII before turning and facing her, still sitting backward in that little black office chair. She watched him reach out with his right arm and elegantly summon a portal in the middle of the room. Only when it stabilized there did the Superior lower his outstretched arm and regard her again. Tentatively, Risk slid off her seat and walked over to stand in front of the dark corridor. For awhile she stared into its depths, feeling the tempting pull of it through her body but also enduring a twisted sickness in her gut.

Xemnas didn't tell her where the portal lead or even that he would follow once she preceded. But then again there was no need to explain. Thirteen looked back at him, receiving a nod, then stepped from white carpet to black void to almost dead golden soil.

* * *

Sorry if this chapter seemed a little slow...ironically, it's among the shortest so far and took a painfully long time to write. The next one will undoubtedly be longer and I plan to have things pick up more. Fingers crossed that it won't take over a month again.

Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers and especially those who do both. Oh yeah, and I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I believe that has been established...

And to Xakane: I sort of have a YouTube account under the same name as my pen name, sans the space, and you're welcome ;P


	22. Time and Time Again

**22. Time and Time Again**

Saix stalked around the empty kitchen like a caged animal sensing a bad thunderstorm brewing in the heavens. Perhaps if the universe had allowed, this would have been a result of nervousness at the mercy of being placed in such a position. He had been given power and was afraid to misuse it. But in the end he blamed it on restless impatience, thinking that even that stretched the limits of his "emotions." Finally he stopped pacing and forced himself to sit idle at the long table, landing his elbows on it and knitting his fingers together in front of his pale nose. For a moment he even relaxed enough to let his eyes drift shut. After spending time tuned in only to the rhythm of his steady breathing, the Luna Diviner reopened them, able to think in a clearer, more collected manner again. That was when his gaze slid right, up to the chair at the head of the table. The Superior's chair.

On the rare occasion that Xemnas came down off his cloud to ingest an actual meal with the others, it was always this seat which he chose to situate himself upon. Though those times were few and far between, as he found it beneath him to ask for the ketchup to be passed his way by these people, the more frequent cases of quick meetings such as the one about to commence saw that he sat there somewhat more often. And so Saix kept looking at the chair with what he thought of as conspiratorial intentions. It remained motionless under Number VII's scrutiny but did feel distinctly uncomfortable with being set upon by such a vicious stare.

A few moments later Saix gathered himself, rising slowly from his own seat and keeping careful watch on the table's far end. With a predatory glint in his eyes, Number VII took advancing steps towards it. Once his foot came into a bit of rough contact with one of the other chair's legs, causing it to make a deafening scrape across the tiled floor, and he froze like a thief getting thrown a spotlight. After reassuring himself that he was still the room's sole occupant, he continued a little quicker to the chair and pulled it out. Then he sat with an odd sense of fulfillment. For a minute he was perfectly still, not even daring to shift in case movement triggered a void in the centre of the universe that would cause something nasty to come back later and bite him quite hard on the ass. But in time his paranoia eased and Saix found himself beginning to relax a little. Of course that was when a deep voice spoke his name sharply.

"Saix."

The Luna Diviner leapt up a second, heedless of where his limbs were and thus bruising several of them on the table in his reflexive spasm. Teeth on edge, his head whipped around to where the owner of the voice stood.

"The others are on their way," Lexaeus stated dully before moving down the table and taking his seat. Saix had to think a moment before remembering that after leaving the Superior's office he had indeed seen the Silent Hero standing outside and asked him to gather the Organization. It had given him more time here to recollect his thoughts and his composure, both of which Seven would need in just a few moments. And then, as if to justify Lexaeus's claim, a dark corridor appeared across the room quietly, let out Demyx's scrawny figure and collapsed on itself just as neatly as it had opened. He looked about himself in a bit of surprise at being among the first to arrive here before walking around the counter separating the dining area from where the food was actually kept and prepared. Humming, the Melodious Nocturne went through the cupboards in search of something to eat. Finding nothing very appealing, he gave the refrigerator a brief regard before giving up and proceeding to the table. A bit thrown by Saix's new position, he paused to count the chairs for his spot, then tentatively sat himself two spots down from Number V.

That was the height of activity there for awhile. Of course everyone else straggled in eventually, alone or with another they'd met up with somewhere along the way, but no one bothered to say anything. All conversation had been checked at the door. It was as if they had reached a consensus that they would be nothing but Nobodies here and now. Finally when most of the seats had been filled, Saix cleared his throat and pulled himself up so that he sat a little straighter, mimicking what Xemnas did before starting a meeting.

"Seeing as Number II is usually late," he said, casting a rather resentful look at the vacant chair on his right, "we may as well begin." Almost immediately a black-clad hand shot into the air and waved itself around in a way that was impossible to ignore. "Er…you have a question, Demyx?"

"Yeah," he said, dropping his hand again. "What about Risk?"

"And where is Xemnas?" Xaldin added.

"I don't see the Cloaked Schemer around here, either," the Graceful Assassin observed while playing with the petals of a fine pink rose. He pulled one off, seeming so uncaring it was almost cruel, and let it drift to the floor. Only then did Marluxia look up to meet the nine pairs of eyes staring at him. "…What?"

Word tended to spread relatively fast in this castle of thirteen and by now it should have been an unspoken understanding among everyone that Zexion disappeared because of some messy business with the Superior and that was all that was safe to know. But apparently Marluxia had been left out of the loop with all the commotion caused by the Heartless. Which was his fault, if one cared to waste time pointing fingers, and oddly enough Number X hadn't started doing that yet.

"The Superior and Number XIII won't be joining us," the Luna Diviner said. There was a stir as most of them found such a blunt answer unsatisfactory. It also made Eleven curious why his question was left untouched.

"But where," a confident voice demanded, "are they?"

Again heads turned, following Saix's cold gaze. Larxene met him unflinchingly, chin held high, hands folded in her lap for once instead of bristling with electricity and, also a first, looking the epitome of patience. As Seven struggled with what to say next and the silence dragged on in its menace, a slow, evil smile spread across her face. Unfortunately the moment ended all too soon with the arrival of the Freeshooter.

"Sorry I'm late, dudes," he called as he swept through the great kitchen doors trailed by a Dusk. "But you'll never guess what happened to me on the way here." Xigbar reached the table and deposited himself in the free chair next to Saix, uncaring of the fact that his eye was twitching at such a rate that it looked like he was trying to send Morse code through it. "So I was walking down this hall," Two began, then interrupted himself. "You guys haven't started yet, have you?"

"Yes. We have, in fact." Despite his calm voice, Saix couldn't help but glare at his colleague. But at least he'd regained control over his left eye somewhat by the time Xigbar glanced casually at him. Then Number II shrugged his shoulders like he didn't really care, which he didn't, and continued regaling the rest of the room.

"So I was going down a hall on my way here," he started again while the Luna Diviner quietly seethed, "and outta nowhere this Dusk—this stupid thing right here—" He flicked the Nobody crouched by his chair on its hood. "-runs out at me. And right behind it? Neoshadow. A big one. So I raise one of these babies and pop it in its fat head." For emphasis he summoned a gun, pointed towards the ceiling, and waved it around a bit.

"Words like poetry as always, Xigbar," Lexaeus mumbled.

"Damn straight," laughed the Freeshooter. "Anyway, this thing must've thought I did it for 'im, 'cause now it won't buzz off." He dismissed the weapon.

Finally, seeming to tire of all this delay, Luxord shifted around in his seat before deciding to make himself heard. All their valuable time was slipping away sitting here. There were games to be played, worlds to be conquered, whiskey to be had.

"Forgive my bluntness," the Gambler of Fate said. "But I think we are wasting time here," he finished, eyes scanning the faces of his comrades. Thankful that someone gave this meeting a prod in the right direction at last, Number VII jumped at this window of opportunity.

"Yes. Indeed we are." After a short pause he straightened from a slouch that had come over him during Xigbar's story, coughed lightly and went on. "Now the point of all this is quite simple. The Superior wants to discover what caused the castle's defenses to fail, so if anyone has any information regarding the matter, I encourage them to bring it forward," Saix said. Before he'd even finished that sentence, Luxord's head had turned pointedly in the Graceful Assassin's direction. A bit later even Vexen slowly lifted his eyes to look at him rather expectantly. In effect this caused a chain reaction around the table which soon had every last Organizer including Saix staring at Marluxia. He pretended not to notice.

"I believe Eleven would know something of the situation, isn't that right, ol' chap?" Luxord prompted loudly across the table.

"Funny Luxord should mention that. I was just thinking along those exact same lines," Four added with a sense of dark humor, articulating his final words. He threw back his head and laughed in a somewhat unbalanced way. Xigbar inched his chair away from the scientist.

"…Number XI, you'd better explain what happened," Seven advised in an even, reasonable and rather perplexed tone. Marluxia began to chuckle, realized he didn't have anything to chuckle at, faltered and stopped, coughing a little instead.

"…Yes, I suppose I'd better, hadn't I?" No response. "Er, well, you see…there was this electrical cord."

**OOO**

A single candle flickered stubbornly against the threatening darkness of Number IV's laboratory, left alone in its mission to illuminate the room past a point of complete blackness. Apart from the farthest corners and the small pool of fiery light surrounding it on the table, the candle did a weak job. Its dim light throughout most of the cold room appeared odd and grey but set the silent atmosphere of the empty lab all the more well. It was like a frozen scene on stage, waiting for the actors of an Agatha Christie play to enter and breath life into it. Nothing moved but the jumping candle flame. And now, of course, the slow dark ooze returning to give back what it had taken.

Forming mysteriously and apparently from thin air, the thick black blob grew quite fast along the floor, spreading until it reached a sufficient size. Then from it stretched several curious tendrils that acted like vines, thin and active in whatever strange job they were meant for. Once they were in the air more such tendrils sprouted from them, shooting around in all directions. In turn these did the same, carrying on a cycle until hundreds darted about sickeningly above the black blob serving as a base, then thousands. Then they started to weave together in an intricate pattern like a self-assembling piece of knitting. In the end it formed a monstrous black cocoon-like entity swaying slightly under its own weight in the middle of Vexen's laboratory. Stillness returned as before.

Suddenly the cocoon slit itself open all the way down, bleeding darkness freely from this great spontaneous gash through it. Behind it the candle wavered once or twice, almost blowing out, but the flame persevered and managed to remain alive despite the enveloping threat. The cocoon continued spilling its contents and turning the room colder with them until it had emptied of the dark run-off. All that remained inside was a human form, eyes closed for protection against the entity that confined him there in a wakeful sleep. Though his breath was steady, each inhale made his chest strain against his wrists crossed tightly over it. Keeping them there were more of the black vines. However, now they made a slow retreat as he was released and his eyes were allowed to reopen and take in the strange world around him.

He had taken a step out before he knew he'd been awakened from what now seemed like just a very strange dream. But what he remembered and what was happening now assured Zexion that everything must have been real. Reaching his hands up to rub some of the lingering darkness from his eyes, the Cloaked Schemer was surprised to feel his own skin instead of the more familiar leather comprising his gloves. He pulled them away to examine and softly sighed at the irony of not being used to flesh. In fact, now that it had been brought to his attention, something else also felt different. Glancing down, he saw that in place of the usual black coat and boots, he stood clothed in a soft white robe and pants, barefoot. Random dark swirling patterns decorated the torso and arms of Zexion's new garments. Overall it looked something better fitting for a lesser Nobody to wear, though perhaps a tad too elaborate for Dusks. Six shook his head to himself as if to physically clear it, something he'd been doing a lot of lately. Either Vexen had gone completely insane somewhere or just the whole damned universe had. Of course, both were possible as well.

Still somewhat disoriented from whatever it was that had happened to him, Zexion stumbled forward and pulled at the heavy laboratory door. He had to find one of the Organization that he could speak freely with. Almost out the door, he stopped and looked back at the lone candle ablaze not far from where the dark cocoon had been, now gone without a trace, having served its purpose. Anyone who wasn't a complete nut would do, Zexion decided as he ventured back in a little. Wetting his fingers, he pinched out the small light that posed an obvious fire hazard, and even Marluxia wasn't one of those many nut varieties, contrary to popular belief. With that he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. Perhaps he might even have an opportunity to thank Risk for earlier.

**OOO**

Saix, along with a number of his colleagues, continued to stare blankly at Number XI as he went on floundering through a flimsy explanation for Luxord and Vexen's accusations. In his mind Marluxia knew he had been ignorant of the magnitude of his actions at the time. Of course that didn't mean he could be convincing now, for the longer he spoke, the deeper was dug an already steep metaphorical grave. It seemed that he had misplaced his acting skills.

"Which was why, you see, I pulled it. I never intended to do such a thing. Well, I did intend to-to the lights…er…"

"Marluxia," Larxene mercifully interrupted at last. He looked at her. "Shut up." Thus the Graceful Assassin wisely did so. After exchanging a few weary glances with the Seniors seated around him, Seven, always eager to take a leading voice, assumed control over this in the way he thought the Superior might.

"Number XI, from what has been said here now on the accounts of Four and Ten, and from your own confessions-"

"Confessions…" Marluxia murmured, voice heavy with distaste.

"-I believe the conclusions should be clear," he said. "As this is not the first time you've taken treasonous action towards all of us, the consequences will be-" He broke off when a rather disruptive and anti-climatic yawn came from down the table. There Saix saw Demyx with his mouth wide open and thus the source of noises he found quite obnoxious that sometimes accompanied the careless yawner.

It took a few moments of utter silence before the Melodious Nocturne realized that something had changed. Then he turned his head curiously and flinched at the death glare he received. Across from him Axel put his elbow on the table and placed his face in that hand out of a kind of exasperation, though he couldn't resist a grin. Demyx shrunk back and gestured apologetically to the Luna Diviner's persisted glower. Eventually Saix averted his gaze from him.

"Marluxia, again you have crossed the line," he pressed on, trying a different approach to the situation, "and at this point punishment can only be-"

"Decided by the Superior." The voice rang out clear across the kitchen in its determination and confidence.

"Why must I always be interrupted?!" Number VII nearly snarled, though by now everyone's attention had been captured by this new and assertive speaker. After a short, agitated pause he, too, turned to take in this somewhat baffling and definitely unanticipated arrival. Standing in the doorway oddly dressed in white was Zexion, and as he paced across the room to the sound of a dumbstruck silence, he disregarded how everyone stared longer and harder at him than ever. His usual self never cared anyway. Once the Cloaked Schemer had taken his rightful place at the table he sat for a few moments, appearing absorbed in a cone of deep thought. Then at last he lifted his head, dark eyes scanning his colleagues' faces.

"Well?" he said to them. "What've I missed?"

* * *

As usual, thanks for reading and reviewing and hopefully doing both! In case you don't already know, Agatha Christie (referenced once here) is a writer and playwright famous for mysteries. Why I referenced her...because it's fun? Yeah, for the most part.

I don't own Kingdom Hearts or...Agatha Christie...but you already knew that.


	23. All Fall Down

I feel I must apologize for the nasty formatting in some places before you read any further...at least, I think it's nasty, but things tend to bother me more than the average person. In fact, now that I think of it, it's always been that way. I just haven't posted in such a long time.

...I apologize for making you read the above apology.

* * *

**23. All Fall Down**

With the unsettled wind swirled much of the loose earth on the all but abandoned, pitiful little world no one looked after anymore. Or at least not very well, as things appeared. And though the two of them were sheltered from the cruel winds by one of the last standing sections of outer wall, a good deal of dust still attached itself to their fine black cloaks. Being generally close to the ground, Risk was covered in the world's dirt within five minutes simply walking around to where the city's entrance remained, for the most part, intact. The Superior led the way inside the crumbling walls then halted in his tracks, thinking it odd that there, amidst a completely ruined place, stood an untouched working fountain. It looked as if its surroundings had never caved in, or that the matter wasn't of any concern to it. Clear, fresh water still spouted out the opening of the spiraling silver rock from which it was made and rained into the wide basin as well as it must've when it was first built.

Xemnas frowned over it for awhile, not noticing that Risk had moved from his side until she was kneeling by the fountain. His eyes wandered over her small figure without concern, though always keeping the spot of black and dusty brown in sight. Then he realized what the girl was in fact doing and practically leaped after her from his relaxed observational stance. Firm hands pulled Risk back in one sudden movement, causing her to choke on the water in her mouth and sputter it out, rather inconveniently for him, all over the Superior's sleeve.

"Hey…"

"Don't--drink from there," Xemnas warned while regarding the water spot with great displeasure. "…It could be dangerous," he added in a low voice, completing the thought.

"It looks fine to me," she said innocently, leaning over once more to gaze at her own crystal-clear reflection.

"Just because you cannot see something doesn't mean it isn't there." Taking her by the arm, he steered Number XIII away, though her glistening eyes remained on the tempting water in the fountain. She let out a whimper.

"But I'm still thirsty." He stopped and released her arm. For a second the Superior watched, almost curiously, as Risk collapsed on the shifty, sandy ground in exasperation, sending up a cloud of dust in the process. From these sporadic involvements he had with this girl, Xemnas was beginning to draw the conclusion that young children, even in nonexistence, had no decorum whatsoever.

"Ignore the sensation of thirst. It is an illusion to us that will go away if you don't think about it."

"Um…'kay," she consented, lifting her head and squinting through the unblocked midday sun of this world.

"Now come, Thirteen. You must show me where the book is," Xemnas commanded.

"Then we can go back home?"

"…Yes," he replied, pausing at the word "home." He hadn't heard such a term used in a long time.

"And I can see Demyx?"

"Er…yes."

"Mr. Axel, too?"

"You may see Demyx and Mr.-er, Number VIII, yes," the Superior agreed. "But first-"

"Yes, Superior Xemnas!" With that she jumped up and headed purposefully for an unblocked side street. After a moment's pause, he sighed a little and followed.

She wound her way expertly around the rubble as if the path had been memorized, and at times Xemnas found it difficult to keep up with her eager pace. He would've felt a little silly chasing after her like this, or at least undignified, but embarrassment and such useless emotions weren't in his repertoire. It wasn't long before Risk turned to face him in a narrow alley, gestured for her superior to wait, and then scrambled up a steep incline of fallen rock with an agility that only the young possess. Because he couldn't follow her directly, Xemnas took care to watch Thirteen's movements. A few loose pebbles rolled down from the disturbance and came to rest by his boots, unnoticed. She reached the top of the pile in a matter of seconds, managing to completely dirty whatever parts of her that weren't already filthy by then. There she crawled through a small dark hole that might have once been a window into this structure and disappeared. Xemnas straightened and fixed his gaze on the spot.

Barely more than a moment later, Number XIII reemerged into the daylight clutching the heavy leather-bound volume to her chest. After a slight hesitation while she looked down and fidgeted with uncertainty at the best way to descend, Risk swallowed her reluctance and slid back down the mound of debris. Leaving yet another thick cloud of dust in the air behind her, dozens of lesser stones reached the bottom with her, and while the ground resettled itself, Risk offered him the book. He glanced over its plain cover and paged through some of it. Just as he'd remembered it, it seemed, if a little dustier.

"Um…sorry if it's a little dusty," she apologized. As though he were in a dream, the Superior closed the book and stared ahead. Then he looked around in a mild bit of confusion, realizing that she'd spoken to him, before gazing down into the child's eyes.

"That's all right," he said as though also telling himself. With that he tucked the book under one arm and turned back "Come," he called. "We will return to the fountain where there is more room to make a stable corridor between here and the Castle That Never Was."

"Um…Superior Xemnas, sir? I was wondering if I could just go see something…in the middle of the city…there's this really neat statue…" Risk explained, staring at the ground in her nervousness. The Superior glanced back at her while he considered the unusual request.

"Very well," he said at length. "Five minutes." She bowed her head in a gesture of thanks, smiling to herself, and then bounded off up the alley in the direction of the inner-city where more buildings had survived.

Now doubting the state of his better judgment, Xemnas went back to the more or less undestroyed square where the fountain stood and situated himself on its wide greyish-white rim. For awhile he simply stared at the bare cover of the book balanced on his knees, head bent. Looking lost in thought though his mind was unburdened. But then the Superior got a most peculiar sensation of being watched and not alone. He lifted his head and surveyed the lifeless landscape before him, then, still unconvinced of solitude, looked over his shoulder at the equally silent ruins. _How_ _strange_, he thought, facing forward again. There his eyes met with a figure clad in a dark grey cloak who now occupied the square with him, hood drawn and looking steeped in the mystique that the Organization itself was famous for. In addition, a black and white pendant that seemed to swirl towards its centre hung around his neck, though that trick could've just been one of the light.

Xemnas stood immediately upon seeing this new presence, his face keeping its usual mask of indifference. Neither man said anything for several long moments, instead waiting for the other to act or react. Finally the hooded grey figure broke the eerie silence with his calm, clear voice.

"Well well well," he said quickly and simply. "Look at who has come back to pay a visit to my world…" Here he started laughing, softly at first, then the laughter built to one of hysterics, citing that this man could very well be mentally unstable. Then he just stopped and it was silent around them once more. Having little other option, Xemnas went on staring. By then the other man had begun pacing leisurely around the fountain, so the Superior turned with his progress to keep a suspicious eye on him while he continued the monologue. "Indeed, he does choose to intrude upon this—my home." He gestured about the ruined buildings. "The only home I've known in my-I mean, _this_-lifetime. Of course it was forced upon me by none other than you…but nevertheless, my dear Xemnas…"

"What sort of game is this?" Xemnas demanded just as the figure was halfway around the fountain. The man seemed to grimace underneath his hood, jerking his head away, but then he laughed again.

"I don't know what sort of game this is," he said between giggles as if it were some enormous joke. "It's what you make of it, I suppose."

Another silent minute passed as the mysterious individual returned to the place he'd been standing to begin with and faced the Superior. He tilted his head and sighed before speaking again, voiced tinged with genuine disappointment.

"…You really don't remember me, do you, Xemnas?"

"No," he articulated in a way one would use to speak to a rather unintelligent child.

"Oh…and I thought what I said would have been a dead giveaway," he mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Who are you?" prompted Xemnas. Such an attempt couldn't hurt.

"**I AM**-" he started in a spontaneous fit of rage that ended after a brief pause. "I am the one you forgot…the one you left behind, the one you cast out. I am the one who didn't make it, and I am now the Servant of Chaos." Another pause, then he added, "But you can call me Xachcen."

Meanwhile, at the heart of the city, Risk was taking one last admiring look at the elaborate black dragon statue that watched over the ruins with golden eyes. She turned to make her way back to the Superior, but hesitated on the first step. Her gaze snuck over to the enchanting piece once more and she was unconscious of the fact that her feet had taken her back up to it until there she saw a gloved hand pressed against the standing dragon's belly. And though it was her own, Risk felt strangely like she hadn't chosen to place it there of her own volition. Withdrawing her hand, the girl shivered in hopes of quelling these bizarre sensations and rubbed her eyes. No longer very keen on staying to contemplate the artistic value of the statue, Number XIII took off down the shallow flight of steps leading up to where it stood on a small platform in front of a massive dome.

About halfway down the steps, a great tremor rippled through the ground. From it came a deep rumbling as if something at the heart of the world had just been reawakened. Risk was barely able to remain standing when the shaking intensified. Dust went up in clouds with the disturbance and soon she felt trapped as everything happening around her seemed to accumulate to block her senses. For awhile the girl stood in the middle of all this like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do. Then she felt rather than saw as the ground only a few paces in front of her split apart and slowly opened like an ancient door no one had touched in centuries. Even though the dust thickening the air refused to settle, Risk could still see the great black void growing larger with a certain clarity, as it was kind of hard to miss. The dirt that blew in and around the city poured into it in sheets as the hole continued spreading wider. Thirteen had to scramble around it through the dust clouds to avoid falling in. Its depths truly seemed endless.

Then the world suddenly stopped trembling and in the moments of eerie quiet that it took for everything to settle again, Risk saw two bright golden lights come alive out of the darkness. Their intensity shocked her into temporary paralysis. Recovering, she screamed and ran towards the fountain she was supposed to be at eight minutes ago. Behind her a huge shadow-like creature began to rise from the open void, crawling up towards the pale blue sky and digging its frightening black claws into the earth. It stretched its long neck and hauled its body out of the blackness, pupil-less eyes surveying the world around. Then they found Risk's retreating form and glinted. With speed contrary to its impressive size, the beast lunged at her, jaws wide open to show off a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. It missed by only a hair and snapped shut in irritation as the girl cried out in terror. Reeling back, it lifted its head up and regarded her as she dashed between two buildings. Then, opening its mouth again, it exhaled strongly an unseen power towards her and, luckily for Risk, missed. Hitting one of the buildings instead, the force blew it apart, sending rock and rubble shattering everywhere and blinding the beast for the time as it clawed around in confusion with bits of stones in its eyes. All this happening at her heels, Number XIII ran faster through the maze of rubble than she knew she could. With an earsplitting roar the creature proclaimed that it had given up and the girl had won this time. Unwilling to stop running, however, she put as much distance as possible between the city's centre and herself.

Finally Risk reached the fountain and collapsed near the slightly dusty shoes of the first person she laid eyes on. For awhile she just stayed there on her back with closed eyes, trying to regain her breath and healing a state of exhaustion. It wasn't until a familiar assertive throat-clearing came from across the square that she looked up towards the source in question. There was her superior, of course, staring back at her with one eyebrow quirked in just that subtle, particular way. Even then it took several seconds for Thirteen to realize something was off. But after a moment of careful recollection she turned her eyes round to rest upon the hooded man standing over her. The man who called himself the Servant of Chaos leaned a little closer to study her small, fearful face.

"Hello," he greeted, offering his hand shod, curiously enough, in a silver glove.

"Erm…hello." With some hesitance she reached out and gave his hand a brief, noncommittal shake to be polite before starting to shimmy away across the ground. He curled up his fingers one by one after Risk had withdrawn her small hand and watched her for a good long minute until she was about halfway between the two adults. When she at last stood to her full height, Xachcen straightened with her. His eyes remained fixated on the child until she'd backed up the rest of the way and stopped safely behind the Superior.

Focus for him then returned to Xemnas.

"Obviously one of yours, though I don't recall…Hrm…" he mused, beginning to toy with the pendant around his neck absent-mindedly. Seeming quite placid on his train of thought, it was rather startling for Thirteen when the man broke into a raving fit of laughter, sounding as though it came from a lunatic. She hid herself behind Xemnas a little more. But just as soon as it had started, it ended, and he turned serious once again. "A new addition to the team, is she?" Something shook the ground much like before, making a thundering noise that had Risk clinging to the Superior's side like he was a lifeboat in the middle of a storm-ravaged ocean.

"Number XIII, I would appreciate it if you ceased doing that," he said, looking down at her with the corners of his mouth twisting into a frown.

"Ah!" was her shaken reply as another tremor struck. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and more shallow laughing came from across the square.

"I hate you people. I really do. Xemnas in particular." Xachcen turned and took a few paces to his left, during which the tremble in the earth stopped. Then he paused and seemed to mull something over. Whirling back to face them a second later, he pointed a finger dramatically at Number XIII. "_You_."

"Me?" she almost squeaked.

"Yes, you. You seem to be the sensible one, not quite corrupted by the Organization yet. So," he went on, "I will offer a choice on the behalf of my merciful side.

"You can either stay here in my city and get ripped into many sticky little pieces by _my_ old friend whom you just came running from, or you can take _your_ old friend here and leave the way you came. That is, after you hand over that text." For a moment Xachcen's hands twitched before he held them behind his back and rocked on his heels like an impatient child. It looked rather odd since his stature was quite a tall one.

"This book is no property of yours. And I will surely not relinquish it to a madman," Xemnas declared.

"A strong point from a strong Nobody, Xemnas, I'll admit, old boy," he said, beginning once again to pace back and forth, restless. "But I believe I gave the choice to your much shorter companion. So _shut the hell up_." Unfazed by his harsh words, the Superior glared at him, then looked over to see how uncertain or nervous Number XIII would be. With these expectations, he was somewhat thrown by how resolved she appeared. Then he saw how she was staring at the cover of the book itself, which she must have slipped from the Superior's fingers while he was distracted. Risk raised her head to the man.

"We'll leave," she decided.

"Very wise choice," Xachcen murmured, holding out his hand and beckoning her over. As she started shuffling forward, Xemnas caught the back of her hood to stop her. She squeaked, squirming a little, and tilted her head far back so she could get an upside down view of his stony glare. "Let the child have her say, Xemnas." But the Superior could see now how mixed up and confused Thirteen actually was about this. After a moment, she turned back to him and handed over the book, head down, looking most guilty about what she'd nearly done in defiance.

By then the Servant of Chaos's patience had worn all the way through with them. With loathing he stared at the other two Nobodies and that book they possessed, no doubt stolen from whatever world it had originated from. He'd been more than fair when Xemnas had set foot here first, and then they'd all come here and still he said nothing, and even then he left the young girl alone in her solitary visit. But now this was it. Three times and four chances, and apparently just scaring them wasn't enough.

"You will deeply regret this," Xachcen told them. Then there was once again a shaking in the ground, this time brief, followed by a sudden strong wind from inside the city. Slowly, from the cover of the ruins behind him, a massive black creature began its rise into the sky. Great wings reaped the air, effortlessly levitating the beast until it was above the crumbling stone buildings and was suspended there like a horrid dark spectre. Its mouth drifted open to reveal dozens of gleaming teeth while its flat golden eyes stared at them. A dark tail flicked around in anticipation. Then it let out a piercing cry and dove towards Risk and Xemnas, claws extended, while the Servant of Chaos just laughed and laughed.

It took Xachcen awhile to realize that something wasn't quite as it should have been. Finally he stopped the evil laughter and glanced around, somewhat confused about the lack of terrified screams. The dragon had paused. As it hovered, staring at the place where the Nobodies had just been seconds ago, Xachcen sighed in defeat and snapped his fingers. _Maybe next time then_, were his thoughts as he vanished in a plume of smoke and soon after the dragon, too, faded away as though it had never existed.

* * *

Okay, so there was like a three month gap between updates, but it's not completely my fault! Really. Things have been rather...odd for me lately as the 'Net has been down at my house for over a month and the only access I've had for that time has been at the library...with filtered Internet so I can't get on any other site but, thankfully, this one...BEFORE that I was having some serious plot issues, mainly about whether or not the mysterious "Servant of Chaos" was really necessary, but as it turns out, I'll need him later. I won't bore you with the details...needless to say, I'm a slow writer at the best of times. Heh...and that's all I have for excuses this time.

Now I know you've all been waiting a long time for this chapter and I thank you for your insurmountable patience. The good news is I'm almost finished the next one and I should have it posted in a week or two. Not three months this time...unless my house is struck by lightning next or overrun in an invasion of vermin and we have to move across the country. Then I can't make any promises, I'm afraid.

'Kay! Thanks for reading and if you have any thoughts about this chapter or any others, if you have any suggests for improvement in any way, anything at all really, please review. Like I've said before, if it wasn't for you guys, this story would never have made it this far.


	24. Till Dusk

**24. Till Dusk**

Risk landed face-first on the white carpet in the Superior's office as the shroud of darkness dissipated. The last five seconds or so had been quite a trying experience. A tension-filled yet still scene, the sudden fearful charging of the lethal myth-beast, then Xemnas had stepped in front of her faster than she thought possible for him to move. It was sort of like he'd spun a web of darkness…and they were here now. She didn't even attempt to lift her head and look around, just buried her dusty nose into the soft carpet fibres and sighed, thankful for a surface other than sand.

It had been a rough arrival indeed, as even Xemnas was shaken by it, though able to remain more or less upright. He placed a hand on the desk to steady himself and breathed deeply a few times, unused to exploiting his powers like that. After recovering, he moved nearer to Risk.

"Are you experiencing pain or difficulty breathing?" he asked, lowering himself to one knee. Vaguely surprised by his presence, she turned her head so she could look at him through one fluttering eyelid, opposite cheek now pressed against the floor.

"I'm okay," she said in almost a whisper, then closed her eyes.

A moment later the Superior stood again, this time acknowledging Saix with an offhand nod, who was stationed in the corner of the room and looking most unsure of what to do with himself. Then he sat behind his desk without a sound other than the faint creak of the chair under his weight. Leaning back, he gazed at Saix as if in question and, understanding the purpose of the look, Number VII took the room's other chair.

"I thought you'd want a summary of what was discussed at the meeting as soon as possible, so I came here to wait for your return, Superior."

"Of course…of course," Xemnas concurred. He spoke quietly and took his time forming the words as he always did. "But first I need to consider…" To elaborate he reached into his cloak and pulled out the book without a name, depositing it onto the desk so that Saix could catch a glimpse of it.

"What-?" he started to ask but Xemnas gestured for him to keep his voice down. Then he indicated a spot on the floor. Naturally, Seven twisted his head around to look and noticed that Number XIII was no longer sprawled across the carpet, but curled up in a ball on her side. Asleep, she appeared just so peaceful with her face calmed by the innocence of her dreams. Jerking his gaze back to the Superior, Saix cleared his throat, careful to keep the sound low, and continued. "What is that?"

"Something that should not be spoken of. But now it seems that the secret is beginning to come out and you ought to know.

"You remember when we first discovered Wind City and sent everyone there except you and we Seniors to survey the world," Xemnas began, knitting his fingers together. "Roxas wasn't with us then, of course."

"Indeed, I remember. It was an expansive planet and as fairly new members they needed to learn cooperation. Hence why you sent a group that size," the Lunar Diviner stated. Resting his eyes a moment, Xemnas nodded.

"Good cover, wasn't it?" As he'd anticipated, Saix was thrown by this a little, though he tried not to show it. "It was simply a test. In fact I had already known all I needed to about the world itself, having even walked on its barren surface once myself. The sole purpose of that mission was to test them."

"Did everyone you send, er…pass?" he asked.

"Yes. They all made it back more or less alive," the Superior answered with the hint of a smirk. "But what I've told you isn't the secret. Nothing is that simple here."

Here he paused, extending Saix's curiosity.

"The reason I chose to send them to that world in the first place was this." Xemnas tapped the cover of the book with one finger. "Its origins are still a mystery to me…one day Zexion found this unfamiliar volume in back of the library. Or so he'd explained it to me," he added, sounding distrusting of the Cloaked Schemer's word.

"So one could say that it gave you the idea?" Number VII suggested, eyes now flickering between the Superior's face and this book. After seeing his solemn nod, he ventured out a little with a request to have a look at its pages.

"I would give you my permission, however I haven't had the chance to look over it since it was returned to me by Number XIII," Xemnas explained.

"You think she did something to damage the book?"

"Hm? Oh, no Number VII, you misunderstand me. I am simply saying that I would like to examine it again first because, you see, the writing has a tendency to change."

"What do you mean, Superior?" Saix now asked in downright puzzlement.

"Words, sentences, even full pages have been altered somehow, almost whenever I study it," he said. "And yes, I am quite sure of this."

**OOO**

"Do you have any sixes?"

"Damn it!" Xigbar slapped his remaining hand of cards on the small playing table in the common room and glared daggers at his opponent. Smirking like the devil, the Gambler of Fate collected the cards and began shuffling as he watched his senior.

"Best out of five, then?"

"I know you're cheating, you cheap English sonuvagun." Luxord stopped dealing for a moment and summoned several pairs of dice to his right hand.

"Bridge, anyone?" Staring at him with loathing through his good eye, the Freeshooter silently picked up his cards and then frowned at them, trying not to convey his disdain. Luxord closed his hand over the dice, obviously quite pleased with himself, and slid his cards off the table. After glancing at them, he suggested to Xigbar with a warm smile, "You go first."

Across the room on the couch, Demyx lay sprawled, gazing profoundly at the ceiling. Sitar held close, his fingers played almost by themselves while the boy pursued daydreams only he could imagine. As his mind carried him further and further away from the small room, Demyx closed his eyes and tilted back his head over the couch's armrest. A goofy grin spread across his face. Then when he raised his eyelids again, the first thing they registered made him squeak in alarm. Blazing red hair and solid green eyes jumped out from a familiar face that had snuck up on him, upside down from Number IX's perspective. The Flurry of Dancing Flames moved back a little before Demyx bolted upright. Dismissing the sitar, he swung his legs off the couch and turned to look at Axel inquisitively just as his feet hit the floor. Axel walked back in front of his dazed colleague to collapse in the now-empty spot on the old couch like a sack of potatoes. Making a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he sunk into the comforting familiarity of the piece of furniture and let his eyelids drift halfway shut. With a slight shake of the head at his friend, the Melodious Nocturne moved over more to what was now, he guessed, his side of the couch.

It didn't take long for Number IX to get fidgety with his hands now idle. First he started tapping his knees with his fingers, glancing around the quiet room as if he were a burglar surveying everything's worth. Luxord and Xigbar were still absorbed in their card game; meanwhile Axel looked very busy vegetating next to him. Then Demyx rose from his seat and began pacing the length of the room restlessly, concentrating on twirling his thumbs. Eight lifted his head enough to watch him blearily for a moment.

"Some meeting, huh?" he said, making conversation in his usual nonchalant way. Demyx's foot hesitated mid-step while he turned his head to look at Axel as if he were in a dream. When his foot floated back to the floor, he jerked away.

"Yep!" Nine squeaked out in reply, resuming his pacing and thumb-twirling.

"Heh…Saix totally got his ass kicked when Zexion showed up." Axel grinned as he recalled the scene, appearing to regain his natural enthusiasm for the discomfort and embarrassment of others he did not like. He folded his arms behind his head, relaxed and content. "The look on his face was _priceless_."

"Yep!" Demyx repeated, though clearly not listening. Blank eyes stayed riveted on his hands. The Flurry of Dancing Flames raised an eyebrow while his gaze trailed over to the sitarist still wandering back and forth across the room like a mindless automation. It didn't take a great philosopher to figure out why Number IX was behaving like this.

"Demyx," Axel began with a bit of a sigh. He pulled himself up and sat forward, running a hand through his spiky hair absently. The boy made an odd sort of apprehensive noise in response to his name but it took a minute for him to stop pacing. At length he looked over and met Number VIII's eye. "If she isn't okay, I'll eat my own weight in Vexen's cheese-covered pretzels." The comforting words, while lost on Luxord whom had overheard the statement and turned to raise his eyebrow at them, brought the touch of a smile to the Melodious Nocturne's face. Axel smirked back before getting up and clapping his friend on the shoulder. With that, he went out into the main hall, perhaps in search of a certain blonde-haired female to antagonize.

Demyx sat down on the couch again after he'd left and tapped his fingers to his mouth in thought.

"Hey guys," he said suddenly, turning to the two Organizers still caught up in their game. Xigbar stopped gritting his teeth for the moment and the Gambler of Fate's sneaky little eyes slid over to their colleague. "Either of you know where Zexion is?"

"Yes, I believe good ol' Number VI came through here at some point during our first match. I offered him a game in our good company, but he declined…other matters to attend to, I'm sure," Luxord said. "Have you any kings?" Xigbar started cursing him out again and Nine had to raise his voice a bit to be heard.

"So he's in his room, then?"

"Indeed!" he replied, acting something sickeningly cheerful as he won yet another game against Number II.

"All right, thanks guys," Demyx said and made to leave.

"I need a new goddamn hobby," the Freeshooter mumbled.

**OOO**

"Now," Xemnas said, for the time dropping this matter of the book and ushering on their conversation in a different direction. "How did the meeting progress in my absence?"

"Well, Superior…" Saix began with some uncertainty. In the shadow of all that his superior had told him, he'd just about forgotten the entire new mess that, in a way, he was to blame for. Two significant things had happened and of them, one could sort of be considered good news. So after a few moments of thought, the Luna Diviner reasoned that he could use it to subdue the Superior's potential rage after telling him about Zexion. Still, Xemnas frowned as Saix took a breath in preparation.

"That is never a good sign," he observed.

"I beg your pardon, sir…what do you mean?"

"The manner in which you just exhaled, as if you were readying yourself for some foul and uncivilized, perhaps even violent, reaction from me. It seems unpromising for good news," the Superior elaborated. "But I assure you, Number VII, there is no being in non-existence with more self-control over pseudo emotions than I."

"Of course," Saix murmured. "Then I will get to the point." He couldn't help but pause again, however, considering how best to put this. "There was a little trouble…when Number VI showed up. But aside from that, the meeting, errrr, was quite successful. Nothing I couldn't…handle…"

What he'd hoped to be a reassuring effort went to waste. For several long seconds the Superior just stared back at the Luna Diviner with an unreadable expression, like he was remembering how he would've reacted with emotions. Or perhaps he was doing the best he could to make Saix uneasy. Either way, Xemnas was slow to respond to this but then came the inevitable.

"Number VI…" He stood and moved a couple paces towards the door, tapping his fingers against the desk. The tapping stopped abruptly as Xemnas clenched the edge and gazed off into the distance as if looking through the closed office door to something fascinating beyond. Finally he turned back to Saix. "I turned Number VI into a Dusk, did I not, Seven?"

"Yes, Superior, you told me you did," Number VII replied stiffly.

"So then tell me, just how much trouble one small, unintelligent lesser Nobody can cause?" he inquired.

"Well, it wouldn't, sir." At times like these Saix noticed and found it quite unsettling how he didn't blink as often as a person should. "But this…this Zexion wasn't a Dusk. He was…in human form again. Somehow," he added. There was yet another lapse of silence as Xemnas took a moment to come to terms with this. Then Seven offered, "We did learn that the castle defences didn't fail as we thought, but was a direct result of…er, Marluxia…" He faltered when the information was met with less than approval.

"Saix, that's very nice, but it seems I no longer have the luxury of fretting about with every failure, misfortune and folly that goes on in this castle," Xemnas went on, voice rising to bear his point, "so unless you want the Organization itself to collapse under the weight of stupidity, you will-"

He stopped when a heavy sigh of unrest originated from Number XIII in her sleep and she rolled over on the floor, back now to her fellow Organizers. Despite being exhausted by the day's occurrences, the adults were still capable of disturbing the young Nobody's repose if they were careless. With the reminder, he exhaled through his nose, making a faint whistling sound, and changed the manner of his voice.

"When I went with her to the destroyed city, it gave me the chance to reflect on this entire matter," the Superior said quietly as he returned to sitting in his chair opposite Saix. He paused as though waiting for some kind of response, or perhaps he hadn't planned to go further with that thought, but seeing he had his subordinate's full attention, Xemnas saw fit to continue. "And I realized that it was a mistake to let Xirsk go freely among the rest of Organization XIII…"

"Who?" interrupted the Luna Diviner while he scratched the inside of his ear with one finger. It took him a moment to notice Superior Xemnas's fixated glare, at which point he straightened sharply and folded his hands in his lap, trying hard to resume a serious disposition. "I mean-of course I know who you mean. Pardon my interruption, Superior. Please go on."

"All that I'm saying is," concluded the Superior, "we must start over with her. This time I expect things to be done right…training, discipline and isolation are crucial. She has incredible potential in her abilities and under the proper influences, I know Number XIII can be an exceptional Nobody."

Saix watched as the Superior picked up that infamous book once again and paged through it before handing it open at a specific place to him. On both pages were odd, sort of abstract drawings that depicted two simple, human forms in the centre of each, contained by thick boarders. Below the drawings were written paragraphs in elegant script, though Saix only glanced over them. But it was the unusual, fresh-looking renders on the two sheets yellowing with age in the book which drew the Luna Diviner's attention. After taking his time studying what had been set before him, his eyes flickered up to Xemnas with a questioning glance.

"What do these illustrations mean?" he asked finally.

"The writing underneath them, I'm sure you've noticed, seems to be a code all its own. But from what I have deciphered, it describes how time, or more accurately time control, _works_…literal or not, I cannot say," admitted Xemnas. Saix's interest was clear now.

"You have my attention, Superior."

"I thought so," he said, lifting an eyebrow before continuing. "The text is quite difficult to follow at certain points, but I believe the information itself is simple enough. Here-" He tapped the first page with a fountain pen. "-it touches on how there are two distinct forms or elements of the manipulation of time; active and passive. Passive-what the first drawing attempts to demonstrate-seems to be the weaker way. These powers can halt and limitedly rewind and fast-forward, if you will, the flow of time. It cannot alter the course of the universe or anything so dramatic…and from what I can tell, Number X is such a passive controller. The active element, however, is one I find much more intriguing. And useful."

His pen moved over to the next page in the book and it was followed by Seven's sombre gaze. In a fraction of a second, he realized just for that instant why the two diagrams seemed so different in such a subtle but important way despite their general sameness. He hadn't noticed it before, but with a second look it was as plain as the nose on his face. The small figure in the middle of this drawing, unlike the other which was of a man with his arms outstretched to the gentle setting around him, was a girl, stick-like appendages pulled in to her body while this scene seemed to crumple in instead of revolving peacefully. And the girl was _weeping_. Saix's eyes widened at the discovery and his head swivelled around to stare at Risk, asleep as she was last time they'd checked. When the Luna Diviner looked back to the open book, he couldn't recall what or why he'd been thinking that and a deep furrow creased his brow. Then he realized the Superior had resumed his monologue and struggled for a second to come to attention.

"As such, it is only logical to presume that Number XIII has these active powers…and henceforth, there are no limits to what we can accomplish," Xemnas said with a dangerous flash in his eyes. "Now I know for certain that my plans can be put into action. I can send her back to, once and for all, obliterate the Keyblade Master! Then no will stand in the way of getting back our lives, our hearts."

There was an awkward pause as the Superior held his fist over where his heart would have been and stared into the distance. Saix coughed.

"Uh, Superior…"

"What is it?"

"The Keyblade Master was the cornerstone of the plan to get our hearts back. Killing him would make it all but impossible…and that plan didn't exactly succeed in the first place," he added in a much quieter tone. Xemnas visibly faltered.

"Oh…oh-yes. That is…that's right. Uh. Very keen of you, Seven." The Organization's leader nodded his head, mostly to himself, for a full minute before he came up with something else diabolical to say. "Then…we will obliterate my old master. Ansem the Wise created this whole mess. We would be doing the worlds a favour. And no one liked him!" He looked at Saix out of the corner of his eye, who was rubbing his chin and shrugged.

"I don't know about that either. I would advise against it, Superior."

"Well why not?" he snapped.

"From what I know, Ansem influenced a lot of people…including yourself, Superior. Things don't often work out as one intends them to when dealing with turning back the clock and influencing the future." The Luna Diviner settled back in his chair and laced his fingers together placidly, though his countenance betrayed his confidence as he was unsure of where this sudden wisdom had come from.

"…Very well then," Xemnas said, quirking an eyebrow. "If you're so knowledgeable in this field, then whom do you suggest we obliterate?"

"I suggest a simpler route, Superior; reverse time to a point before we lost our hearts and then avoid putting ourselves in those circumstances again. Or in some cases, make different choices…"

The Superior considered his proposal for awhile, despite being rather keen on the prospect of someone's obliteration. Fingers tapping together, he at last nodded once, making his final decision.

"Your plan is a sensible one. There may be a few details that require working out, of course, but I will take care of them." Pulling a blank sheet from beneath a stack of papers on his desk, Xemnas began scratching rapidly on it with a pen. "In the meantime," he added without looking up, "you are in charge of Number XIII's training."

Saix sat dumbfounded. This wasn't the kind of job he had expected, nor wanted, to be tasked with. Obviously the Superior didn't plan to offer up his reasoning for this call though as he kept on scribbling while Seven blinked at him. After a moment of silence in the small office, Xemnas raised his eyes just enough to see him still sitting there and sighed. Placing the pen down, he stated without amusement, "You're still here."

"Why pick me, sir? Wasn't Eight supposed to train her?"

"Yes, he was. And you saw what happened with _that_." He paused to give Saix time to reflect on how foolish the question had been. "Let her rest tonight. She's still weak. Tomorrow morning you may begin…other than that I leave the process in your capable hands."

With no other choice, the Luna Diviner nodded his understanding and stood to get Risk. Xemnas watched him scoop up the small girl and hold her away from himself under the armpits, expression twisted into one of distaste at this creature. Despite the careless treatment, she didn't wake up, even when Saix shifted her over his left shoulder so that she dangled there haphazardly while he fumbled with the doorknob.

"Good evening, Number VII," Xemnas said after watching the spectacle and then returned to his notes.

"Good evening," he returned quietly, then eased the door shut behind him. Risk stirred once to the sound of his footfalls echoing down the hall but settled into the temporary pillow and rhythm of the Luna Diviner's gait soon enough.

**OOO**

After knocking and receiving an invitation to enter, the Melodious Nocturne drew a deep breath to try to steady the hands of his which seemed to be vibrating in front of him. And they still insisted that he had no heart. This whole situation as of late was frankly starting to freak him out. First the Heartless, then Larxene's unusual injury, Risk disappears, Zexion comes back from the dead…or whatever that was, he didn't have a clue. When the lights went out on his way to Six's door, Demyx had practically screamed before he remembered that most of the hallway lights in the castle shut off at a certain hour. Still, it felt to him like Demyx had adopted the role of protagonist in a bad sci-fi horror movie.

No longer very eager to continue standing there alone in the dark, contemplating Organization XIII's most recent misfortunes, he opened the door to Zexion's room and slipped inside, slamming it behind him. Number IX began to exhale in relief, but then he realized that the room, too, was almost in complete darkness. With the impulse to yelp or scream or make some kind of noise, Demyx opened up his mouth wide and could only yawn. Then Zexion, who was sitting on the floor in a meditative position with four small candles arranged in a semi-circle before him, looked up through one impassive eye at his visitor.

"Demyx." The Cloaked Schemer said his name as though he were about to give an important announcement. But then he just stared at Nine like he'd already given it and awaited the blonde boy's opinion.

"Zexion," he countered finally to end the long, somewhat awkward pause that had settled in.

"I didn't expect you," Zexion admitted. Nevertheless he motioned for his younger comrade to come forward into the small pool of light provided by the softly glowing candles and sit with him. Demyx complied, executing his steps through the darkness with caution, all the while glancing around Number VI's room despite only being able to see rough shadows, watery eyes huge in the lack of light. He lowered himself in front of the candles to his knees, then crossed his legs under him like Zexion had done. Once more he surveyed the space with a child-like gaze, noticing the outline of the sparse furniture and the window curtain drawn tight against Kingdom Heart's glow.

The Melodious Nocturne glanced back at his senior. He felt like he was waiting for something even though he'd been the one to come to Zexion. Though since he just went back to concentrating on his breathing and kept his eyes shut, Demyx figured that he should be the first to speak.

"Uh…so what are you doing?" he asked.

"Meditating." Even without looking, Six could tell that Demyx was giving him a slow, dumb nod as if he understood this behaviour.

"…Why?"

"Because," he sighed, "everything after Xemnas turned me into a Dusk is fuzzy." Zexion studied him now, leering forward, but Number IX just blinked. Sitting back again, he waved his right hand towards a pile of books stacked up high near the large shadow Demyx assumed to be his bed. "I've read that meditation relaxes the mind and can sometimes restore forgotten memories."

"Right…" Demyx glanced sideways into the darkness, fingers drumming on his knees sceptically.

"Is that all you came here to ask me?" snapped Zexion, growing wary of their aimless conversation.

"Yes. I mean, no! I mean…" He interrupted himself with nervous laughter while his senior slouched over and rubbed his forehead, head shaking at the floor. Once Number IX had regained himself, he looked at the Cloaked Schemer again with a certain amount of solemness this time. "I guess…what I wanted to know was… Risk said she made a promise to fix you. What did that mean? Why did she say that?"

"Like I said before, my memories are not all clear," Number VI stressed. Then he pressed a hand to his forehead, brow furrowed as if some great pain surged through it. "But I do recall fragments…faces, voices." With a twisted look he added, "Luxord," and Demyx's eyebrow drew up in puzzlement.

"Okay, but-" Before he could interrupt any further, Zexion held up an index finger to him for silence. Then he leaned forward, one hand cupped beneath his chin, staring at the flame of the candle in front of him as it wavered a little by his inaudible breaths. Demyx scooted back uncomfortably but still watched. With some luck this enigma of a man in front of him would be able to help. And when one side of his mouth curled upwards in satisfaction, the Melodious Nocturne grew a little more hopeful.

In one fluid motion Number VI was on his feet and opening the window curtains to the light of the sky outside. Confused, Demyx cocked his head when the Cloaked Schemer turned away from the window, his strange white outfit seeming to absorb some of the moonlight now spilling in. As he started speaking again, Nine also got to his feet.

"She blamed herself for what Xemnas did to me, thus considering it her responsibility to help. But after she brought me to Vexen, she took off." He shook his head, though at what he didn't know. "Of being a Dusk, all the rest I can't really remember that would be of any use…except maybe when I recognized Risk," he thought to add.

"You did?"

"Well…she saw me first and when she started talking to me, indeed, I did. She's here now, in the World That Never Was. Weak, but here."

" Okay, so you're going to help me find her?" Demyx chattered quickly, almost knocking over a candle with his restless foot. As he paced back from the window, Zexion paused, sniffed, and then answered bluntly.

"No. You can find her on your own if you really desire." He turned away on his heel though he kept the eye obscured by a shade of hair on his subordinate. Feigning disinterest rather well, he watched Number IX's gaze fall to the floor, heavy with discouragement and doubt.

Of course the analyst in him began to wonder why Demyx seemed to care so much about the child in the first place, but Zexion knew he didn't have any more time to waste for this conversation. Spinning back around, he bent for a moment to pick up the candle on the end and then gestured to Demyx with it. On instinct he backed away from the source of fire.

"Right now we have different agendas, Demyx. You have to find your small friend and I," Zexion explained as he moved closer with the candlestick, "have to put an end to this cycle of madness…"

"Huh?" The Melodious Nocturne stopped retreating, the door at his back. "What are you talking about?"

"Just the Organization. I see now that our quest is futile and we're not doing any good with this alliance, only harm to ourselves. Harm to the worlds."

Number IX didn't say anything to that for a minute. He just stared at Zexion's humourless expression with utter disbelief. Part of him was horrified by the mere mention of the idea; the other part was waiting for the punch line of this ill joke. In that hope he put on an unconvincing smile and tried to laugh, which ended up a sorry-sounding note.

"You're joking," Nine said. But from the look on his senior's face he knew he was not. The weak smile disappeared fast. "B-But you're a Senior!"

"That I am," he agreed. "What of it?"

"You're not supposed to say stuff like that."

"Why not? In fact, the Seniors should be the first to speak. This can't go on for the rest of our so-called lives, Demyx; you couldn't have expected it to. It was a mistake to push this as far as we did."

"It wasn't a mistake!" Demyx shouted. "We have to get our hearts back! We have to…" His voice cracked and he looked down and away from the Cloaked Schemer. Zexion kept a level gaze, shaking his head at him.

"It's a wild goose chase. And what do you, of all Nobodies, need a heart for?" he asked, pressing the brass candle holder into Nine's hands while he glanced up for a moment. "Just now you yelled at me, looked sad and were confused when I gave you that candle."

"I didn't really feel those things, though…right?" He shrugged, opening the door and ushering the Melodious Nocturne out into the hall.

"You tell me."

Then the door shut and Demyx was left standing in the dark hallway with only Zexion's candle for light.

"But…if the Organization splits up…" He stared at the ceiling for a long time before finally whispering his thoughts to the glowing flame. "I don't want to be alone again."

* * *

Seven months...holy friggin' cow. Well, that wasn't supposed to happen. There's a bit of an explanation for that on my profile, which I've forsaken at the moment but should really update again soon so I can tell you guys some good news for once...and by the way, it's been about three years since I first started writing this. I can't believe I've stuck with this for three years. Anyway, I'm not particularly thrilled by this chapter and after all this time it should be better, but next post...now that excites me. It'll be good. And if anyone out there has indeed waited all these months for an update...YOU HAVE EARNED MY SEAL OF AWESOMENESS FOR YOUR PATIENCE.

Reviews are a dish best served WITH GUMMY WORMS! (Crash Bandicoot reference...heh.)


	25. Steps Backward to Go Forward

**25. Steps Backward to Go Forward**

As night at last lifted and a new day shuffled in through the perpetual darkness, bringing with it a foreboding shroud of storm clouds, Zexion had to summon his reserves of patience while he sat in solitude against the window pane. He'd waited out the whole night this way after Number IX had left, a book in his lap while he watched the three remaining candles burn down to stumps of cooling wax. He was waiting for breakfast to end so that the Organizers thinned out through the castle and went about their daily business. Thinking of food, Zexion held a hand over his stomach. Having not eaten since becoming a Dusk, he longed to join his comrades in the kitchen where he knew that Xaldin had taken it upon himself to make pancakes. According to his calendar, it was Thursday, after all, and he could just smell it. But with everything Six had seen, what he thought about it all, he almost felt an unbridgeable distance between himself and them. He couldn't bear to answer the questions they'd pose, either.

Outside the skies rumbled with thunder. Lightning struck not long after and in that split second it lit up the world, the Cloaked Schemer couldn't help wondering whether lightning was capable of drawing towards a Nobody, considering they didn't exist and all. He'd never heard of any of the Lessers getting fried while roaming about during thunder storms…Zexion chuckled mirthlessly. Just another meaningless paradox to their name. Then he thought of Larxene, who he'd once saw direct a lightning bolt down at herself on purpose just so she could feel the sheer, deadly power of it course through her body. He glanced at the clock hanging above the door. By now the morning meal should have finished and the one he needed to talk to was, if his senses were correct, in the library. Zexion stood and started brushing off his clothes but hesitated, staring at the white downy outfit for the first proper time. The whole ensemble made him stand out like a sore thumb from his peers, especially the fact that his feet and hands were bare, and he couldn't even begin to fathom how ridiculous he must've appeared.

Fortunately, though, a spare Organization outfit hung in his closet. In fact it was the only thing in Zexion's closet and once he shed the white garments in favour of the more familiar black ones, he gazed into its recesses for a moment before shutting the door. His room always had been rather bare save for the necessities and a few choice books. Paying it no more mind, Zexion slipped on a pair of black gloves, the leather at first cold against his skin. He flexed his fingers in them and then scrutinized the rest of himself with a downward glance. Now he looked the part at least, though he was doubtful of how well he'd be able to play it. Organization XIII used to give him a sense of belonging, some illusion of power over their situation, but all that was gone. In truth, Zexion didn't know what to think anymore. He looked at the clock one last time as if it could give him all the answers he sought, now reconsidering everything he'd told Demyx.

Hesitance kept the Cloaked Schemer standing there awhile longer but something was urging him on if he would only listen. Then he recalled a quote that he had read one quiet day in the castle long ago which had stuck with him ever since, occasionally popping up from Zexion's subconscious to gnaw away at his thoughts. As it came back to him this time, he murmured it aloud to the stillness of the room.

"For every problem there is a solution that is simple, neat and wrong." Oddly he remembered Xemnas after the words were past his tongue and began shaking his head again, that humourless, ironic laugh filling the room. If anyone had been there to hear it they doubtless would have thought Zexion had lost his mind. But in reality he'd never seen things more clearly in all his nonexistence.

Cracks of thunder and lightning punctuated the air as heavy raindrops started battering the window pane and Zexion focused his energy into a dark corridor. He followed its swirling depths through to the one spot in the library where he would be out of sight, hidden by a back shelf completely weighed down with old books. In stillness he crouched, hearing a soft murmur of voices he didn't expect as two people conversed. One was Larxene, he knew for sure since he'd smelled her here, but he couldn't be certain who the man was. Zexion cocked his head, listening intensely as he felt the man's light footsteps through the floor while he paced back and forth. The footsteps were very light, in fact, and he began trying to recall who the thinnest member of Organization XIII was…

"What are you doing?"

The new voice had taken him so much by surprise that Zexion nearly fell over and his hand shot out in a scramble for something to grip to keep himself balanced. Of course his hand only managed to knock several thick volumes off the shelf, which made a horrible ruckus as they all crashed to the floor. Six squeezed his eyes shut for a moment in the confused silence that followed. What a disaster this was turning out to be. Then he glanced around his small space before turning an eye towards the aisle across from his where Lexaeus stood staring at him, an open book left forgotten in his palms.

"Zexion?" he asked in a loud whisper, clearly not quite believing who crouched there behind the bookshelves, trying to eavesdrop on the others in the room.

"Shh!" the Cloaked Schemer admonished him. He tried to peek out from his hiding spot but sensed that they were looking and sat back against the shelf.

Now Lexaeus was suspecting that he had hit his head at some point and was beginning to see things. He turned away, replacing the book, and started massaging his left temple when Zexion beckoned to him urgently. Frowning hard, the Silent Hero lowered his arm and went over, half expecting him to disappear.

"Zexion?" Lexaeus pressed, kneeling next to him.

"Who is the man over there? With Larxene." Number VI had his fingers braced against his lips as though hushing himself while he looked at his colleague expectantly. For a moment Lexaeus just blinked, an eyebrow raised in doubt, but he poked his head around the bookshelf nonetheless.

"Axel."

"Ah…should've known that one…" he mumbled to himself. The Silent Hero kept staring while Zexion seemed to ignore him now, moving his lips without a sound like a child who'd just begun to read.

"Zexion!"

"What is it?" he snapped, alarm in his voice. He only glanced at his colleague, looking as if Number V had brought him back to reality from a trance.

"God's bones," Lexaeus cursed, then growled at him, "What's the matter with you? What ludicrous plot has you sneaking around like a thief now?"

The Cloaked Schemer turned his head to him again, dark eyes seeming a hair's breadth away from psychotic. Then he flashed a brief smile that more resembled a grimace anything before answering.

"I assure you, it's better if you didn't know. But you'll find out anyway. Soon." He paused, biting his lip, then added, "I just need you to do one thing for me."

"Well that seems rather convenient," rasped Lexaeus sardonically, eyebrows pulled together while he looked down upon Number VI. Taken by surprise from his negative reaction, Zexion started to speak but faltered. "Am I the only one who sees a pattern here? Remember what happened last you enlisted me but failed to explain the purpose."

"I remember. No harm came to you and I bore the responsibility that was mine." Lexaeus's facial muscles tightened.

"You got turned into a Dusk," he stated, ignoring his colleague's prior remark.

"…And the point you're trying to make is…?"

"Tell me what it is you're planning this time," Lexaeus said, "or I can no longer allow myself to assist you." He met Six's stare evenly before the Cloaked Schemer turned his head away with a short sigh. So follow-the-leader Lexaeus had changed into a man of his own principles. If he'd just done that a few years ago, they wouldn't be having this conversation here now. This would have been a very different story, indeed.

He was silent for a long time, avoiding Number V's eyes and staring straight ahead at the colourless wall. Fingers curling and uncurling against his knee, he searched for something to say though he knew any effort would be futile on his part. The Cloaked Schemer had run out of words.

"I see how it is, then," Lexaeus murmured, standing and folding his arms behind him. "I bid you farewell, Number VI." And with that he flipped up the hood of his cloak, heading off into a portal. Too late for him to see, Zexion raised his hands as if in surrender, dropping his head forward like a rag doll's. He remained that way for several long breaths, but then hauled himself to his feet with a new resolve. _Fine_, he thought. _I'll do it all myself_.

Clenching his left hand into a tight fist, Zexion came out from the cover of the bookshelf and approached his comrades seated around the wooden table at the front end of the library. Axel, who'd been facing away from him, turned to follow the Savage Nymph's gaze as she stopped talking before Six had caught a stray word. Her face betrayed no reaction to him being there and Zexion made sure he looked just as impassive as she. They stared at each other like this for a few moments, making Axel thoroughly uncomfortable and somewhat irked in the process.

"Would you mind giving us some privacy, Number VIII? There is something I must discuss with Larxene." He could see that Axel was bothered by how he'd called the Savage Nymph by her name and him by number.

"Anything you have to say to her, you can say it in front of me," Axel declared, standing and looking Six in the eye as if daring him to challenge that. Apparently Larxene found this side of him quite amusing, for she hid a quick smile under her left hand.

"You are mistaken. This is not a matter I dare to talk about openly with many individuals," Zexion said. "And I'm afraid you're not one of them."

"Axel," Larxene cut in before either of them could say anything more idiotic. "Just go. This shouldn't take long." They could both see the argument drain out of him as his shoulders dropped and he gazed at Number XII for a moment, lips parted in silent protest. After bringing his lower jaw back up and giving Zexion one last suspicious glare, Eight made a resigned gesture. He turned and left them, smouldering slightly in both senses of the word.

Larxene eyed the Cloaked Schemer as he watched Axel slam the door on his way out, leaving the room in silence. Then she invited him to sit, which he did, and she allowed herself a small, mocking smile at Zexion, who remained undaunted.

"He'll get over it," she said of Axel, carefully flexing the fingers of the arm bandaged under her cloak. Zexion blinked in response. "So what's this about?"

"I need someone who can keep a secret and work with me…_discreetly_," the Cloaked Schemer said, dropping into the quiet, devious tone he was well renowned for. Larxene immediately raised a sceptical eyebrow at his dramatics.

"What, do you plan on uprooting Marluxia's rhododendron bush for spite and need me to make it a covert job?" she teased. "Or maybe you're trying to dig up Roxas's old comic book collection, huh? Some top-secret idiocy like that…yeah, thanks but no thanks." Number XII continued to scoff, deepening Zexion's frown.

"You vex me. I am terribly vexed…shunning an offer before even hearing what it is…"

He began to lift himself from the chair to leave and Larxene went quiet for a moment, not expecting his sudden elusiveness.

"Wait," she said, then quickly uttered an apology for what she called impoliteness.

"Impoliteness? You mean your deliberate mocking of my intentions?"

"Yeah," she admitted shortly. The edge on her voice warned Zexion not to push her any further, however, and so he resumed his seat.

"I shouldn't be telling you this until you've allied yourself with the cause," he said, glancing around conspiratorially to ensure no unwelcome ears were listening. "But…well, you are aware of how Xemnas imposes the idea of collectivism on us and how none of us will be cheated out of a heart so long as we cooperate."

"No duh. He only drills the Organization's 'principles' into us every meeting," Larxene reminded him.

"Right. Except our superior doesn't abide what he preaches. To him, we're all expendable."

For the next half hour in the eerie atmosphere of the library, the Cloaked Schemer told her of Xemnas's real view of the Organization, likening him to a tyrant that looked out only for his own best interests. And Larxene listened, absorbing every word. By time Zexion had asked her to join his "force" in knocking Xemnas off the top of the food chain, Number XII was ready to agree. They stood and she even did not object to shaking his hand as a promise of secrecy over what they'd talked about.

"So is anyone else in on this?" Larxene asked, letting her arm drop back by her side.

"I beg your pardon?" Zexion faltered for just a second, but it was enough to make him panic involuntarily. "Oh-you're asking…Lexaeus." It had been the first name to come to mind.

"Lexaeus," she repeated. By the sound of her voice, it was obvious that she found the Silent Hero's turn away from Xemnas hard to believe.

"And Demyx," the Cloaked Schemer added. He regretted it a moment later when Larxene crossed her arms and looked at him with her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Thereby Zexion decided to bite on his tongue in an attempt to refrain from saying something of increased stupidity.

"Lexaeus and Demyx?" she said. "So our little renegade group consists of you, me, Demyx and Lexaeus?"

"Actually, we're more of a revolutionist group," he pointed out. Apparently his tongue-biting strategy wasn't working out so well.

"Right." The two stared at each other in silence. Then the Savage Nymph declared, "Well, at least no one will suspect us of anything," and turned to summon a portal.

"But remember, you can't talk about-"

"I know," Larxene said, waving him off. She glanced back, smirked, and disappeared into the darkness.

When the portal finally closed, Zexion let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and collapsed onto the nearest armchair. He could hardly believe that she had bought into his "revolutionist group" so easily. Of course he had to lie, and Larxene would not be pleased to find out the truth, but that part came later. For now Zexion had what he needed. It was time to begin anew.

**OOO**

The world came about in a blur. Everything appeared to be off a bright, unashamed white at first with no detail, like the inside of a block. But then she began to see that there was, in fact, pieces of furniture and things set up conservatively around the room, all in the same shade of white. There were some white chairs around a white table which had white flowers as a centrepiece, although the green stems of the lilies were hidden by the tall white vase that they stood in. It was enough to give any sane person a headache. In addition, Risk just noticed that she was sitting up on a white bed, her dark clothes stark against the white sheets.

Risk shuddered and glanced to the left where a long mirror reflected the scene to her. The girl looked so foreign in this unfamiliar place that she had to stare at the image for a studious minute before she could accept it as real. Finally she reached a cautious hand up to her left cheek and explored the shallow fissures of the small, X-shaped scar there. Oddly, this was the first time Thirteen paused to wonder where it came from. She couldn't remember it happening or even when she noticed the scar to begin with. As Risk decided that it must've been there since she was very young, the mirror warned her of the door behind her opening on well-oiled hinges and she jerked her hand away, snapping to attention.

Saix's head appeared in the doorway, eyes scanning the room like a thief's. When they came to rest on Risk's small form upright on the bed, the Luna Diviner blinked them and bowed his head for a moment in respect to the younger member's privacy in which he'd just violated. Then he retreated from his position at the door and eased it shut. Seconds later a quick rapping sounded from his side, requesting permission to enter.

"…Who is it?" Risk called out as she'd been taught to do so long ago.

"Saix," he answered after a brief pause.

"Um, just a minute, please." She hopped down from the white bed to the white floor, glancing around at this disorienting room once more before moving to accommodate her visitor. It took the girl a moment to find the door handle as it was also, of course, white.

Once Number XIII opened the door, Saix looked down upon her in his usual calm but icy fashion. Risk blinked at him several times awkwardly before he made a weak throat-clearing noise and spoke.

"Good afternoon, Thirteen. I trust you've acquired sufficient rest for the day's proceedings?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "But I'm really hungry now. Um…c-can I has a sandwich?"

"_May_ you has a sandwich," Saix corrected her, "and yes, you may. The appropriate accommodations have been made down here to meet any needs you will have. Follow me. I will show you the Empty Room."

By then a number of questions had surfaced in Risk's mind, like where was everybody else, what was this unfamiliar place and why did Number VII want to show her an empty room. But at that time her stomach was the dominate force inside of her, so with the promise of food she followed him. They'd hardly left the room Risk had awakened in, however, before he halted.

"Here we are," he announced.

"Here? But I don't see anything." She peered around the place, seeing only more white walls.

"You wanted food. Don't forget what you came here for."

"Er…yeah, a sandwich-whoa!" At the word, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich appeared in front of her nose out of thin air, naturally startling the girl. Saix sighed as she clung to his leg.

"Don't be so foolish," he snapped. "Go on, take it." He gave Risk a push and she stumbled forward, then reached out tentatively for the apparition. Taking the squishy thing in both hands, she examined it from various angles before finally taking a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed and smacked her lips.

"It's good!" Number XIII said, beaming up at Saix in delight.

"Satisfied? Fine. Now have a seat. There are some things that require an explanation."

Two chairs materialized in the room facing each other. Once the pair had settled into their respective places, the Luna Diviner began as Risk chewed intently.

"Superior Xemnas has deemed it best for you to complete you training apart from your fellow Nobodies and free of the distractions they unintentionally yet inevitably cause. I am to be your new mentor of sorts."

"You're going to teach me things?" Risk asked. He nodded. "What kind of things?"

"Dark corridor control, inferior Nobody summoning, how to remain undetected during stealth operations, basic self-defence techniques…being skilful like your comrades. Every member of Organization XIII must be like a Swiss army knife, plus holding some of their own functions. So most importantly, we will be focusing on your unique powers. What makes you different, in other words," Saix said.

For a few moments it was quiet as Risk absorbed this new information and finished off the last bite of her lunch.

"So…I'll be here on my own a lot?"

"No. I will be present throughout the day to train and guide you as I've said. Only in the evenings will I have to take my leave."

"Oh. Just you, then. No one fun," she surmised. Seven's mouth twitched slightly in irritation.

"Yes. Just me," he replied stiffly. "For the most part you will remain here, in Negative Space, though in the future we may take trips to other worlds to test your progress. Once your training is complete, you may return to the greater parts of the castle and your regular lifestyle. Do you have any further questions?"

"No, sir," she said, looking down at her hands.

"Very well. One last thing," Number VII added. "I suggest you keep a record of some sort on your activities, a diary or journal perhaps. Quite a few of our colleagues keep them. You might find the practice to you liking." He stood and the chair, no longer needed, vanished from the room. "If you are ready, we should begin."

"Yes." Risk met his eyes. "I'm ready."

* * *

And that...is another chapter. Thank you guys for all the kind reviews you submitted last time. Good to know people are still reading this after three years...still can't get over that fact. Least, it's been three years for me, heh heh. It was months before I posted the first chapters, in case any of you are wondering at my astounding math since the story date is at '08. Yeah.

Thanks again for reading and don't forget that any and all opinions are welcome if you so care to leave a review! I would especially like to know if something is wrong so I can correct it or at least apologize. XD


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